The Choice of Hope
by Lthien Arnatuil
Summary: A young woman is sent to Middle-Earth where she travels to Rivendell in hopes of talking to the Lord Elrond. While there, she starts having visions of an Elf who's disobedience saved the life of his Lord and cost him everything else. R/R please.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, watched his elf-friend, Andorian, with tears in his eyes. The only sounds that were heard was the grazing and shifting of Elrond's white mare and the soft breeze that rustled the rich green grass that lay beneath their feet.  
  
Beside Andorian stood a beautiful maiden with gold flowing hair that came down to her middle and a simple white gown covering her slender body. Around her neck she wore a small gold necklace and from it hung a four-pointed star. This was Marie, Andorian's one true love.   
  
She reached behind her neck, under her hair, and un-hooked the necklace and handed it to another Elf, a friend of Andorian and Marie, named Narralin who, once he had the necklace in hand, ran to the right of them toward a large stone gate that looked more like a stone arch.  
  
"So you are going to carry out your plan, then?" said Elrond, breaking the silence.  
  
Andorian smiled sadly, the soft breeze blowing through his light elven hair.   
"Yes, Elrond" Andorian replied. "I have chosen to lead a mortal life with Marie by my side in her world."  
  
Elrond nodded silently, his gazing drifting from the white mare, to the forest and stone gate to the left of them and then back again to Andorian and his beloved. He felt helpless, and he knew he was, to change the mind of his friend. To stop him from becoming a weak-minded human like Isildur.  
  
"I do not mean to interrupt, Andorian," said Narralin, "But if we do not go through now the gate will close."  
  
Andorian looked at the Elf and smiled. "Yes, just a moment." He looked back at Elrond, rolling his eyes.  
  
"He still won't stay?" Elrond asked.  
  
"No," answered Andorian, "I've tried so many different ways of getting him to, but that Elf won't stay. He insists that Marie and I need protecting and he's just the right person to do it."  
"I see," Elrond laughed then looked at them sadly.   
  
"Do not let your heart weep, Elrond," said Marie softly. "Though you will never see us again you will see one of our kin."  
  
"It will be a young woman of the age of twenty-three years," Andorian explained.  
  
"If this is true, then I shall await the child, eagerly," said Elrond.  
  
"Thank you, Elrond. Please watch her like you would your own child," said Marie, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.  
  
"We must be going now," said Andorian, "Good-bye, Elrond."  
  
"Namaarie, amin mellonea, you will forever be in my heart, my dear friends," Elrond smiled.  
  
"And you in ours," Andorian replied. "Namaarie, Elrond."  
Andorian hugged his friend in farewell then turned with his beloved and walked toward the stone gate. Before stepping through the gate Andorian turned to look Elrond, friend and Lord, for the last time then stepped through the gate, Narralin and Marie right behind him.  
  
A white light momentarily blinded Elrond and when he was able to see again Andorian and Marie had disappeared.  
  
"Namaarie, amin mellonea," Elrond said to himself softly before turning, mounting his horse, and leaving behind all but the memory of good friends and a predicted child.   
  
  
  
Well, what did you think? It's my first try at a story and I'd like to know. All you have to do is review... 


	2. Disclaimer

Everything that you read from now on is J.R.R Tolkien's work. Well, besides everything that obviously isn't.  
I am NOT going to put another disclaimer because it's to much of a hassle and I forget about it. Now that that's over I can get back to writing. : ) 


	3. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
Two-thousand years later.  
  
"No, I do not want four billion free hours on AOL," said Estela Autumn, throwing the tin cased CD in her kitchen trash bin. "No, I do not want a free vacation that I have to pay for in six years. No, I don't want a free shrinking T-shirt, no I do not want a--oh wait, maybe I do."   
  
She threw away five junk mail parcels then walked into her blue and white decorated living room and flopped down on the light blue loveseat near the apartment window that had a beautiful view of the street.   
  
"Dear Ms. Autumn," she read, "We have enclosed one of our Visa cards for you to...oh, blah, blah, blah, blah!" She rolled her eyes and threw the letter behind her which--thanks to the extra weight of the Visa card--conveniently landed in the trash bin.  
  
She opened the next letter. "'Do you want to see beautiful landscapes and wonderful, sharp images in you living room? If so, then you will want the TV 'O Matic!'" She sighed and threw the letter behind her which landed on the spotless white carpet a few inches away from the loveseat.   
  
She skimmed through the rest of the mail--all junk--then threw it away and sat on the loveseat, staring up at the ceiling.   
  
"Why does my mail always stink?" said Estela, looking down at her black and white spotted cat, Miffin, who was sprawled out on the floor, its eyes squinted shut. "Do you think it's the mailman? Do you think he might throw my real mail away and give me bills and spam?" The cat looked up at her, bored. "Mrow?" it meowed, yawning. "I knew it," said Estela.  
  
The telephone on the table at the end of the loveseat rang, interrupting their 'conversation'.  
"Hello?" said Estela said after she picked up the phone and positioned it against her ear.  
"Estela!" A voice squealed into her ear.  
Estela gave a pained look at her cat who just laid there, staring at her with a placid look on his face.   
  
"Adrian?" asked Estela knowingly.  
"Yes! Listen, do you think you could teach me to use that bow you gave me last year? Well, since it's just been sitting in the attic for forever."  
"Why didn't you ask sooner?"  
"Because I heard that this guy at school, Jason, totally digs it when people use bows and arrows!"  
"Um...yeah."  
"So could you, like, meet me in the forest behind the old shoe factory? In that clearing with the big tree?"  
"Sure."  
"Thanks, bye!"  
Adrian hung up leaving Estela with the annoying dial tone ringing in her ear.   
  
"Miff, why do I have to go?" said Estela to her cat. The cat answered with another "Mrow." then squinted his eyes shut, intending to go to sleep.  
"Pain-in-the-butt."  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Estela ran silently into a small clearing deep in the forest with a giant oak tree and a small pond, her long slightly curled, pale blonde hair streaming behind her because of the speed in which she ran.  
  
She ran until she reached the tree, jumped up and grabbed onto one of the low branches then swung herself up on top of it.  
  
She climbed to the top-most branches of the tree with ease and settled on her stomach on a giant branch that snaked above the pond, fingering the silver four pointed star that had a blue diamond shaped jewel set in it on the necklace that she wore around neck that her mother had given to her when she was a little girl.   
  
She brushed a strand of hair behind her pointed ear then frowned and quickly brushed it back in front of her ear, hiding it.   
  
Sighing, she shifted her weight and lay as still as possible, tuning all her senses to the forest life around her.   
  
The different coloured fish swarmed around the top of the water, every once in a while jumping up making an arch then landing back in the water with a little plop!  
  
The birds in the trees shifted and shuffled their feathers, sometimes jumping out and flying away or starting a soft song.   
  
The animals on the forest floor crept back out of their hiding places that they had darted into when she had ran into the clearing.   
  
The rabbits and other small animals crept, hopped, and walked to the pond to get a drink then jumped back into the forest to start looking for food or go back to their dens or holes.  
  
A squirrel sat on a branch a few feet away from her, staring, then quickly darted up the tree and into a hole on one of the top branches.  
  
Then a deer stepped out of the trees and looked around cautiously before it looked back toward the trees, her tail twitching slightly. The deer made a soft noise and a young deer walked out of the trees and stepped up behind the mother.   
  
The doe nudged her fawn toward the water and the young deer started to drink.  
  
"Vanima onna en' i' taure," whispered Estela in a language called Sindarin that was only know to her and her family.  
  
The doe's head shot up and it stared at Estela from the ground.  
  
"Beautiful creature of the forest," she said to herself in English.   
The doe continued to stare at Estela and she smiled. "'Quel re," she laughed. "Good morning!"   
  
The fawn stopped drinking and looked up at her, curiously.  
  
"'Quel re, baru laito," Estela called down to it. "Amin did il think ai'nat' could be tanya anfaugy!"  
  
The fawn took another drink, keeping one eye on Estela, then bounded away with it's mother back into the forest.  
  
"Bye."  
  
All was quiet for a moment when loud footfalls that she had heard fifteen minutes ago for some reason or another were coming in her direction and someone started yelling her name.  
  
"I guess that's the only perk about being a freak with pointy ears," sighed Estela, watching the animals dart back into their hiding places and the birds explode out of the trees with a deafening sound of flapping wings.  
  
The noisy creature, a fifteen-year-old girl, Adrian, that had startled the animals squealed in horror and ran into the clearing, waving her hands around her head and swiping through the short, dark brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail.  
  
"Estela! Help me!" squealed Adrian while she ran to the tree and tried to climb it.  
  
Estela watched the girl try to climb the tree for a few minutes then give up, sit down on the ground and pout.   
  
"Stop laughing at me and help me up!" shouted Adrian at Estela who was practically gasping for breath from laughing so hard. "Stop it!"  
  
Estela wiped a tear from her eye, smiling, and stepped down onto a smaller branch and offered her hand down to the girl.   
  
Adrian stood up and made a grab for Estela's hand but was short by a few inches and instead lost her balance and fell on her face.  
  
Estela started to laugh again but stopped abruptly when the branch started creaking and cracking.  
"Uh oh..." she managed to say before the branch snapped, making her fall to the ground and land in a heap on the forest floor.  
  
She rubbed her head and pushed herself up off the ground, dusted herself off and looked at Adrian who was laughing and pointing at her.  
"It wasn't that funny," she grumbled, wiping mud off her light blue shirt, as Adrian sat on the ground, dirt on her pretty face, and clutched her sides as she laughed.  
"It wasn't that funny," she repeated.  
"Your right," Adrian said, slowly calming down. "It was hilarious!"  
  
Estela scowled. "What did you come all the way into the woods to bother me with?"  
Adrian stood up and smiled, wiping her dirty hands on her blue jeans and leaving muddy handprints marked on the sides. "You said you would teach me how to use a bow an arrow, remember?"  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
Adrian smiled another huge, hundred-watt smile and ran back into the woods to get her bow.  
  
When the girl came back with her bow and a navy blue backpack her smile disappeared when she saw the horrified look that Estela gave her.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Adrian, concerned.  
"What did you do to the bow I gave you?" Estela gasped.  
Adrian looked at her bow and smiled. "Oh, I just spray painted it hot pink. Do you like it?"  
"I can't teach you how to fire an arrow from that thing!"  
"Why not? Is it ugly?"  
"No..."  
  
"Then why can't you teach me?"  
  
Estela sighed in frustration and snatched the bow out of the girl's hands with a movement to fast for Adrian to see.  
  
"Fine," said Estela, holding the hot pink bow in her hands, "We'll use it only for today then I want you to go and spray paint it back to it's normal colour, understand?"  
  
Adrian nodded sadly then followed Estela to another part of the woods.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"You have to hold it steady," Estela said to Adrian while she held the bow firmly in her left hand and drew the string back with her gloved right hand.   
  
She paused a moment and looked at Adrian, annoyed, who was humming some song from the Backstreet Boys and occasionally singing a few verses.  
"And you have to be able to concentrate!"   
  
Adrian stopped her singing, abruptly, and stared at Estela with a sheepish look on her face. "Sorry."  
  
Estela sighed and looked back at the bow. "Then you aim," she said, "and...fire!" She let go of the string and the arrow flew toward a target that they had pinned to a tree two hundred yards away.  
  
"Whoa!" yelled Adrian as she watched the arrow sail through the air in a straight line toward the target. "Let's go see where it went!"  
  
The two walked toward the target and saw that the arrow was stuck right in the middle.  
  
"Bull's-eye," Estela smiled, lightly touching the feathered end of the arrow.  
  
"This was a lot of fun, Estela," said Adrian, "but can I show you something I found when I was practicing yesterday?"  
  
Estela looked away from the arrow and the target. "Sure," she said.  
  
Adrian dug around in her pockets for a moment then brought up a crumpled yellowing letter that had "Hope" written on the front and handed it to Estela.  
  
"I found it in front of this arch thing in another clearing not far from here. I opened it and thought that you might want to read it."  
Estela looked at her confused then looked down at the yellowed letter that lay in her hands.  
She turned it over to the back and gently opened the flap and removed the letter that was inside.  
  
"I didn't understand what it said," Adrian said. "That Chinese part right there." She pointed to the single written line that was visible amidst the rest of the run-together lettering. It read: I' ando is neva.  
  
"That's...strange."  
  
"What? Do you know Chinese?"   
"No, it's French," Estela lied. "I think. My mom and dad taught it to me before they died."  
"What does it say?"  
"Just a moment." Estela read the paper a few more times before asking, "Where did you find this?"  
"Over there," said Adrian, pointing to the left. "I'll show you."  
  
They walked in the direction Adrian had pointed until they reached the small clearing that Adrian had spoke of earlier.  
  
There was a small bubbling creek that ran behind a huge stone arch that had smooth, short, green, grass surrounding it and beautiful flowers blooming all around.  
The trees blocked the sun out except a small area where the branches seemed to part and the sun shone through and illuminated the arch.  
  
"This doesn't look like it belongs in this forest," Estela marveled, "Or in any forest."  
  
"I found it over there," said Adrian, completely ignoring her surroundings, and pointing toward the arch. "Right on the ground in front of that thing."  
  
Estela walked to the arch and rubbed her the palm of her hand against the gritty stone and a little of it crumbled away.   
  
"What are you doing?" asked Adrian.  
"Nothing," answered Estela.   
  
She looked a little closer at the stone and rubbed her hand against it again. More of the rock crumbled away, and fell to the ground, revealing a small engraved message and a four-pointed star indented near the bottom of the right leg.  
  
"Yaikotaneoio wields i' key aa' have tarna imya i' ando," read Estela. "Hmm, I think---"  
  
"What does it say, Miss French?" said Adrian. She had walked over to Estela and was now looking at the engraved message and the arch.  
  
"Whosoever holds the key may have passage through the gate," Estela translated  
  
Adrian rolled her eyes. "This is getting really boring. The key! The key! This is like a really bad and long story I read once called Lord of the Rings. Instead of Earth the author called the planet Middle-Earth. I mean, come on! Middle-Earth? Ha! Anyways, people died and there were these weird dudes on horses--they're dressed in black--and this old wizard guy named Gandalf dies in the mines of Mafia or something and this king guy named Aragorn who is waiting for the hobbits in Blee or something has to help these short, fat people--the hobbits--named Frodo Baggins, Sam Gamgee, Pippin Took, and Merry Brandybuck destroy this evil ring that could destroy the whole world by tossing it into some volcano. Oh, and some Gondor guy, his name is Boromir, he also dies and there are these orcs and troll things and this huge tree thing named Tree-man or something...oh! And Elves. There's a prince dude named Legolas and another old guy named Elrond that heals the leader of the fat hobbits, Frodo, because the black dressy people stabbed the poor child with a knife and there's this other guy--actually it's a dwarf--that is as fat and as short as the hobbits but he has this ax that he cuts people with and his short, fat dwarf-friend, Balin, he dies also. They all live on this weird place called Middle-Earth. And there's another wizard guy named Saruman and he's all evil and stuff but that's not the evil dude that wants to take over the world, no, that's Sauron. He's this flaming eyeball that's all evil like Saruman but Sauron's more evil and---"  
  
"Are you finished yet?"  
  
"Yeah, sorry."  
  
"As I was saying, I think this may fit in that space right there," said Estela, unhooking her necklace and holding her silver star up to the star in the arch. "See?"  
  
"Oh! That's wicked cool."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
Estela shook her head and placed her star into the star on the arch and held her breath, waiting for something to happen.  
  
"Well?" said Adrian, breaking the silence, after it nothing happened.  
  
Estela sighed, removed the star and re-hooked it around her neck. "Well, we tried."  
  
"Okay. Anyway, there's this lady from the city of Rivendell or something, Éowyn, and, personally, I think she's the only worthwhile person that the author guy wrote about---"  
  
"Look!" exclaimed Estela, interrupting her and pointing at the arch.  
  
The arch began to glow with a pure white light that made them shield their eyes to save themselves from possible blindness.  
  
Estela turned in the other direction, blindly trying to get away, and tripped over what she later said looked like a rock. She fell on the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her.   
  
"Estela!" Adrian called. Her voice sounded faint, far away, and frantic.  
  
Estela rolled over on her back, trying to breathe, and looked up at Adrian's face.   
  
The white light from the arch surrounded them and it was hard to see anything more than three inches away.  
  
"Estela, we have to get out of here!" cried Adrian, pulling Estela to her feet. She put the older woman's arm around her neck and started walking in a random direction, trying to get away as fast as possible.  
  
They kept walking trying to get away from the light but instead of getting dimmer it kept getting brighter until they saw nothing. Then, when it seemed that they would never get away, a dark outline broke through and Adrian started walking toward it, Estela hobbling next to her.   
  
"We're almost there," Adrian yelled above the increasing whirring noise. Her hair blew in her face from the wind that had suddenly started blowing all around them as she walked, making it harder to see.  
  
The outline soon turned into an arch and the light suddenly grew intensely bright and the noise blocked out any other sound that could have been heard.   
  
Estela squinted, trying to see something, anything, and looked at Adrian. The girl's eyes were wild with fear and her head had a bloody cut that ran from her left ear to her forehead. Adrian opened her mouth and tried to say something but no sound could make it above the noise.  
  
The arch, for some reason, was the only thing that they could see so that's what they headed for.  
  
Estela, who had been keeping her eyes squeezed shut, opened them suddenly when they stopped, abruptly.  
The arch stood before her, glowing brightly, making her feel small and insignificant. It seemed to be whispering something. "Lle coiasira has arrived, Estela. Make asca, nessa er, ten' Heru Elrond is waiting."  
  
Her mind was working enough for her to understand that it meant: "Your time has come, Estela. Make haste, young one, for Lord Elrond is waiting."   
  
She looked to Adrian but the girl had let go of Estela and had disappeared. Estela tried to walk, but stumbled again and fell toward the arch.   
  
Her muscles tensed, waiting for the pain of the ground hitting her to come but it didn't. She fell through the arch, but instead of landing on the ground she kept falling.  
  
The light was diminishing and soon everything turned black and she kept falling.  
"Like a bottomless pit," she thought distantly.  
  
The black that surrounded her cleared suddenly, allowing her to see the forest again, except she was seeing the tops of the trees instead of the clear, cloudless blue skies of the early afternoon.  
  
The panic she felt in the dark faded a little but quickly returned when she saw the ground rushing toward her.  
  
She caught a glimpse of a black or blue, she couldn't see it clear enough to know which colour, object hurtling toward the ground at her side.  
  
For a quick moment she thought that she saw the top of a curly brown haired head and the sudden flash of bright brown eyes and a horrified expression from the forest floor, but it disappeared when she closed her eyes as the ground became only a few yards away from her.  
  
"I'm going to die," was the last thought she had before hitting the ground.  
  
  
  
  
  
What do you guys think? "'Quel re, baru laito, Amin did il think ai'nat' could be tanya anfaugy" means "Good morning, brown baby, I did not think anything could be so thirsty." I hope you like it so far, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	4. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Estela groaned and tried to look around. She must have twisted over in the air before hitting the ground and landed on her back.  
'That would explain why I'm not breathing dirt,' she thought.  
  
Everything was dark and as soon as she turned her head or moved her body pain shot through her making her immediately lay still.  
  
She instead tried to see with just moving her eyes but the shadow that had covered her sight didn't lift.  
'Don't panic,' she said to herself.  
Instead of seeing, she decided to listen. She relaxed her body and took deep breaths, calming herself.   
  
She almost screamed when a voice, soft and alarmed, spoke, "What do you think it is?"   
She bit her tongue and listened. The voice obviously had a companion. Either that, or it was nuts.   
  
"I reckon it's a she," said another voice, this one older.   
'Okay, it's not nuts,'  
"Oh, really, Merry, I can see that! I meant what is it?"  
"Stop calling her an 'it'. She's a *she*."  
"Right, Merry. So what kind of *she* is *she*?"  
"The female kind."  
  
"Merry!"  
"What?"  
"What *type* of she is it?"  
  
"Oh. Let's see...she's to big to be a hobbit...what about and Elf?"  
"That would explain why she is so fair when one looks upon her..."  
"Stop blushing, Pippin. She also has pointed ears."  
"Yes, I saw that too."  
"So we know it's a she and we know she's an Elf, but...one thing still puzzles me."  
"What?"  
"I didn't know Elves could fly."  
"It was more of a fall."  
"I suppose. But what is an Elf doing in these parts?"  
"I don't know, Merry."  
  
"Alright," sighed the voice that belonged to Merry. "Poor Sam. I hope he's alright."  
"Me too. He never saw her coming. Poor lad was just walking behind Frodo and boom! An Elf falls on him."  
  
All was silent for a few moments and Estela wondered if they had left. The shadow over her sight still hadn't lifted and she was beginning to wonder if she had gone blind.  
  
One of the voices, she wasn't sure who it was, suddenly started laughing. "I must admit," it was Pippin, "it was kind of funny."  
"It was," agreed Merry, a smile evident in his voice.   
  
While they were laughing it suddenly hit Estela like a ton of bricks.  
'Maybe you would be able to see if you tried *opening* your eyes!' She screamed at herself.  
With effort she managed to pry her eyes open. Her vision was blurred, but soon cleared and she saw two huge light-blue eyes staring down at her.  
This time she did scream.  
  
The eyes fell backwards and grew into a small child-like creature that stared at her shocked.  
"Ai! She's awake!" cried the owner of the eyes.   
'Pippin.'  
"I see that, Pippin!" cried another one.   
'And that would be Merry.'  
  
"Please don't eat me!" She cried, sitting up, and shielding herself with her arms.  
Merry and Pippin stared at her, confused, and she slowly lowered her arms.  
"We're not going to eat you!" Pippin suddenly snorted. "We are not cannibals."  
  
"Pippin! Merry!"  
'Oh, no, not another one!'  
"Frodo's calling," stated Merry.  
"J-just a moment!" Pippin replied, still staring at Estela as if she was a monster.  
  
"Where's Adrian?" asled Estela, suddenly remembering the girl. She spotted the girl's navy blue backpack hanging from a tree.  
  
"Adrian? Who is this?" asked Pippin.  
"She's a fifteen-year-old girl with brown hair, it's about this long," she said holding her own long hair in her hand and pointing to about where Adrian's came. "She was wearing blue jeans and a teal shirt. Do you know what happened to her?"  
  
"What are blue jeans?" said Merry.  
Estela stared at them. "You don't know what jeans are?"  
Merry shook his head.  
"They're these things," said Estela, pointing to her own jeans.  
Pippin and Merry stared oddly at her pants.  
  
"We haven't seen her," said Pippin."  
  
Estela sighed and looked around. The forest hadn't changed. For some strange reason it was a dark night instead of the light mid-afternoon that she remembered it being.   
It still had the creek and the trees looked about the same, standing in a half-circle around the...  
  
'Where's the arch?'  
She rubbed her eyes and looked again but still the arch didn't appear.  
  
"Where am I?" She wondered aloud, standing up.  
"You are on the outskirts of the Old Forest," declared Pippin.  
"The old what?"  
"The Old Forest," Pippin repeated.  
"I've never heard of that forest."  
"You haven't?"  
"No."  
  
"Where are you from?"  
"Maine."  
"Where is Maine?" asked Pippin.  
"In the United States."  
"We know of no place called the 'United States'."  
"Very funny."  
"What is funny?" asked Merry.  
"Everybody knows of the United States!"  
"Well, we don't," replied Merry, looking hurt.  
  
Estela turned away from them and gave a frustrated sigh. "What planet am I on?" She said to know one in particular.  
"Middle-Earth," replied Pippin.  
Estela turned and faced Pippin. "What?"  
"You are in Middle-Earth," he repeated.  
"Very funny."  
"What is funny?" asked Merry, looking very distressed.  
"Nothing," She sighed, putting her hands on her hips, and looking around. "So I'm in Middle-Earth."  
"Yes," smiled Pippin.  
  
"Oh, wait!" Her sudden outburst made them jump. "Let me guess, you're the fat hobbit people!"  
"Oh, that's not very nice," Pippin said, his smile turning into a frown.  
"Pippin Took, Merry Brandybuck, Sam Gamgee, and Frodo Baggins!"  
Merry looked at her, astonished. "How did you know that?"  
  
"And you're trying to meet this guy, Armorman or something in Blee, right?"  
"Bree," Merry corrected. "And we don't know who this 'Armorman' is."  
"I'm having a dream! Yeah, that's it, only a dream. A really bizarre dream," said Estela.  
  
"Merry? Pippin?" Another hobbit stepped out of the trees to the left and stared at Estela. "Who are you?"  
"Um, I'm Estela Autumn," answered Estela, holding out her hand toward the hobbit. He looked at it oddly and she slowly lowered her hand so that it was resting by her side.  
  
"She's an Elf, Frodo!" explained Pippin.  
"No I'm not," said Estela quickly.  
"But, how---"  
"I'm not."  
Pippin stared at the ground silently, a thoughtful look on his face.  
  
"I am Frodo son of Drogo of the Shire," explained the other hobbit.  
"Nice to meet you," answered Estela.  
"We are headed for Bree, Estela," said Frodo. "You may join us if you wish."  
"Okay."  
  
Frodo smiled and walked back through the trees. "Come, Merry, come, Pippin!" He called.  
  
Merry, Pippin, and Estela, who stopped to get the backpack out of the tree, followed Frodo into a little area where packs, five ponies--one brown, a mare, with a white blaze in the middle of his face, two red, one, a mare, with four white socks, a golden colored one, a stallion, with two white socks, on his right front leg and one on his left back leg, and the other, a stallion, with white spots covering his body so that he resembled a cow, and the last one was a beautiful white stallion.   
  
There were cooking pots resting on the ground and there was the remains of a fire with red embers still burning, but fading into black ash in the midst of it all.  
  
"You gave us quite a scare," said Frodo, picking up one of the packs and slinging it onto the white pony.   
  
"We thought you were one of them Black Riders!"   
Estela turned toward the new voice, another hobbit, surprised. "You must be Sam," she said with a smile, as she looked at the brown-haired hobbit.   
"That'd be me," replied Sam, "Samwise Gamgee."  
"Nice to meet you. And I'm sorry about...falling on you."  
"No harm done," replied Sam, picking up the pots, pans, and utensils and placing them in a pack that was sitting near-by. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine, just a bruised elbow and some other things."  
"That's nice to hear." With a grunt he hauled the pack onto the brown pony then leaned on it for a moment before trying to get himself up onto the mare. With much effort and time he managed to seat himself on the pony's back.  
  
Pippin and Merry picked up the last two packs and slung them over the red ponies then mounted them as well.  
  
"You may ride that pony over there," Frodo said, motioning toward the golden pony.  
Estela looked at the pony then at the hobbits. "You know, I think I'll just walk for a while," she said. "I want to sort this all out."   
"If that is what you wish, then let us hurry toward Bree." Frodo pressed the pony's sides with his heels and they all started making their way toward Bree.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
"Are we there yet?" asked Estela.  
"Almost," replied Frodo, a little annoyed.  
A few minutes later: "Are we there yet?"  
"Almost," said Frodo through gritted teeth.  
Estela smiled. "I'm just playing with you, Frodo," she said. "All little kids whine about when they're going to get there on long car rides. If you want me to stop, I will."  
"Yes, that would be most appreciated." Frodo smiled. "Are you calling yourself a child, miss?"  
Estela opened her mouth then closed it, blushing.  
The hobbits laughed and rode on, smiling.  
  
Frodo sat silently for a moment before asking, "What are 'car rides'?"  
"When you ride in a car," answered Estela.  
"What is a car?"  
"You don't know what a car is?"  
"I'm afraid that I don't."  
"Then I guess you wouldn't know what 'electricity' is either?"  
"No, Estela."  
  
"I changed my mind: this is a nightmare! Yes, that's exactly what it is. I fell over a rock, knocked myself out, and poof! I'm in Dream Land...or Pony Land! And it's Adrian's fault for reading that stupid book and telling me about it!"  
"Please, Estela, do not yell," Frodo hissed. "We are trying to get to Bree without being noticed by...certain people."  
  
"What? The Black Dressy People?"  
"Excuse me?"  
"The weird 'dudes' on horses!"  
"The Black Riders," said Merry with dread in his voice.   
"Please, do not speak of them," said Frodo, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "The thought of their presence plagues are minds enough. I ask you, do not need of speak of them!"  
"Aye aye, Captain," she whispered.  
  
They sat silently, coming toward a bend in the road. The rounded the bend and a large hill came before them, a village nestled at the bottom of it's right flank. There were lights down in the village, twinkling and illuminating the darkness.  
  
"Bree-hill," Merry breathed. "And there's Bree down at the base of her! There are hobbits down in Bree, as well as Big Folk. I daresay it will be homelike enough. The Pony is a good inn by all accounts. My people ride out there now and again."  
  
"It may be all we could wish," Frodo said, "But it is outside the Shire all the same. Don't make yourselves too much at home! Please remember--all of you--that the name Baggins must NOT be mentioned. I am Mr. Underhill, if any name must be given."  
"Underhill?" asked Estela, raising an eyebrow at that. "Why not Mark Maguire? I'm not a fan of any sports, actually. It's just 'Hello, Mr. Underhill!'? It sounds like you're made of dirt."   
  
"Let us hurry on," sighed Frodo, ignoring Estela. "I wish to get there soon."  
"Me too," said Estela. "I don't want to freeze to death before this dream ends.  
"I assure you," said Sam, "that this is not a dream."  
"Then why was I in one place and now I'm in another? Hmmm? Can you tell me that?"  
"You're not making much sense, miss," frowned Sam.  
  
Estela gave an exasperated sigh and started walking toward Bree, then stopped suddenly. "What's that?" She asked.  
Frodo and the others stopped and listened, holding their breath.  
"It is nothing," declared Merry after a time.  
"Whatever," said Estela, and started walking again.  
Frodo smiled and he and the others followed suit, each desiring a fire and a door between them and the night.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
What do you think? I'd like a review! I thought maybe starting out earlier in the story instead of just throwing her in Rivendell like most do would make it better. What do you think? See you, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	5. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Estela had been walking for hours (refusing to get on the pony because she thought the pony was looking tired enough without her added weight) and she was just beginning to get tired. This puzzled her greatly but she put no further thought to the matter.  
  
She looked at the navy blue backpack that she had lugged around all day, seeming to have gained weight as the day went on. "What in the world does she carry in here?" said Estela. She decided not to take a look until they reached somewhere that had a roof over it.   
  
They came at last to Greenway-crossing and drew near the village.   
  
They came to the West-gate and found it shut, but at the door of the lodge beyond it, there was a man sitting.  
Estela took notice of his long greasy brown hair with disgust and his squinting eyes as he hobbled over to the gate.  
"What do you want and where do you come from?" He asked gruffly.  
"We are making for the inn here," answered Frodo. "We are journeying east and cannot go further tonight."  
  
"Hobbits! Four hobbits! And a woman! And what's more, out of the Shire by their talk," said the gatekeeper, which Estela had dubbed "Scrunge", softly, as if speaking to himself. He stared at them darkly for a moment, and then slowly opened the gate and let them ride through.  
  
"We don't often see Shire-folk riding on the Road at night," Scrunge went on, as they halted a moment by his door. "You'll pardon my wondering what business takes you east of Bree! What may your names be, might I ask?"  
"Our names and our business are our own, and this does not seem a good place to discuss them," said Frodo.  
  
"Woo-hoo, score one for Frodo," said Estela softly.  
Scrunge gave her an odd look then said to Frodo, "Your business is your own, no doubt, but it's my business to ask questions after night-fall."  
  
"We are hobbits from Buckland, and we have a fancy to travel and stay at the inn here," Merry put in. "I am Mr. Brandybuck . Is that enough for you? The Bree-folk used to be fair-spoken to travelers, or so I had heard."  
  
"Score *two* for Merry," said Estela. "Sorry, but you're going to have to catch up if you ever want to win, Mr. Riding-a-white-horse," she finished, smiling sweetly, remembering that Frodo's name was not to be spoken.  
Frodo smiled at her then turned back toward Scrunge.  
  
"Alright, alright!" said Scrunge. " I meant no offence. But you'll find that maybe more folk than old Harry at the gate will be asking you questions. There's queer folk about. If you go to The Pony, you'll find that you're not the only guests." Scrunge wished them goodnight, and they said no more.  
  
They left the man and were headed toward The Pony when Estela suddenly turned around and yelled, "Use shampoo!"  
"Estela!" exclaimed Sam.  
"Three points for me," she said happily.  
"Why do you get three points?" asked Pippin.  
"Because I'm a woman, and because I invented the game."  
"Those aren't very good reasons."  
"Fine. I'll make it five."  
"What? That's not fair either! How will we catch up to you? *How* do we catch up with you? What award do you get if you win? Why do you get five?"  
"Fine!" said Estela, throwing her hands up in the air. "We *all* get five!"  
"Well, what about Frodo and Merry? Do they get five added to the ones that they have already earned? Because that is not fair either."  
"Ahh! Leave me alone, you pesky hobbit!"   
  
Merry, Frodo, and Sam laughed at the two. Their hearts had lifted and were filled with joy and a strange new hope ever since the coming of the woman. Yes, they were still wary of the Black Riders, the gatekeeper, and everybody else, but the long road to Rivendell didn't seem so frightful anymore.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" demanded Estela.  
"You always seem to get in some kind of trouble," said Sam.  
"What? It's all *his* fault! He doesn't understand me!"  
"I don't think any of us do, Estela," smiled Frodo.  
Estela gasped dramatically. "Oh, no! What am I to do?"  
"Well, it would be a good thing if you stopped yelling, seeing as there are many people staring at us," Sam suggested.  
"I agree," said Estela.  
  
"Will you be staying with us in The Prancing Pony, Estela?" asked Merry.  
"I suppose," replied Estela, thoughtfully. "That it is all I *can* do, for I know no one here."   
  
They approached the inn. It had a sign hanging from a small pole over the doorway that read The Prancing Pony by Barliman Butterbur.  
  
"We surely aren't going to stay here for the night, are we, sir?" exclaimed Sam. "If there are hobbit-folk in these parts, why don't we look for some that would be willing to take us in?"  
"What is wrong with the inn?" asked Frodo. "Tom Bombadil recommended it. I expect it's homelike enough inside."  
"Tom Armadillo?" asked Estela, confused.   
"*Bombadil*," Pippin corrected. "Very nice lad."   
  
They hesitated outside on the steps wondering whether or not they should go in when a loud merry song started, and many cheerful voices joined loudly in the chorus.   
They listened to this encouraging sound for a moment then dismounted their ponies.  
The song ended and there was a burst of laughter and clapping.  
  
They led their ponies into the yard, and leaving them there climbed the stairs.  
Frodo went forward and nearly bumped into a short fat man with a bald head and a red face. His what-used-to-be white apron was smeared with food and some other unidentifiable stains and he nearly dropped his tray of mugs that he carried.   
  
"Ahh!" Estela yelped, stumbling backwards.   
"Can we---" Frodo started.   
"Half a minute, if you please!" The man shouted over his shoulder, and vanished into a babble of voices and a cloud of smoke.  
  
"How rude some people can be!" muttered Estela. "Nearly running over someone then not even apologizing before running off again! Some nerve."   
  
In a moment he was out again, wiping his hands on his apron, leaving two more brownish smears on it.  
"Good evening, little master!" The man, who, like Scrunge, Estela had dubbed Dirt-man, said, bending down to Frodo. "What may you be wanting?"  
"We 'may' be wanting an apology!" said Estela before Frodo could open his mouth.  
"Beds for five," said Frodo quickly, sending a glare toward Estela.   
Estela ignored him and sent a glare of her own toward Dirt-man.  
  
"And stabling for five ponies, if that can be managed," Frodo continued. "Are you Mr. Butterbur?"  
"That's right!" said Dirt-man. "Barliman is my name."  
"Whoop-de-do," Estela muttered.   
"Barliman Butterbur at your service!" said Barliman, obviously not hearing Estela. "You're from the Shire, eh? And who's this?" Barliman turned to Estela. "Where do you come from, missy? You've got mighty strange clothes, I see."  
"Llie n'vanima ar' lle atara lanneina," said Estela, smiling innocently.  
Barliman looked at her oddly, as did all people she had met so far.   
  
He clapped his hand to his forehead suddenly, as if trying to remember something. "Hobbits!" He cried. "Now what does that remind me of?"  
"Turkey?" Estela suggested.  
"No...might I ask your names, sir?"  
"Mr. Took and Mr. Brandybuck," said Frodo. "And this is Sam Gamgee and Estela Autumn. I'm Mr. Underhill."  
"There now!" said Barliman, snapping his fingers. "It's gone again!"  
"What is?" asked Estela. "Your brain?"  
  
"But it'll come back, when I have had time to think," continued Barliman. "I'm run off my feet; but I'll see what I can do for you. We don't often get a party out of the Shire nowadays, and I should be sorry not to make you welcome. But there is such a crowd already in the house tonight as there hasn't been for long enough. It never rains but it pours, we say in Bree. Hi! Nob!" He shouted. "Where are you, you wooly-footed slowcoach? Nob!"  
  
"Frodo," said Estela, nudging the hobbit in the ribs. "I think I agree with Sam: this place is weird."  
"Maybe if you stop being so sarcastic it wouldn't be," replied Frodo with a small smile.  
"I'm offended," stated Estela, falling silent.  
  
"Coming, sir! Coming!" A cheery-looking hobbit bobbed out of a door, and seeing the travelers, stopped short and stared at them with great interest.  
"Where's Bob?" asked the landlord. "You don't know? Well find him! Double sharp! I haven't got six legs, nor six eyes neither! Tell Bob there's five ponies that have to be stabled. He must find room somehow."  
Nob trotted off, giving a wink and grinning.  
"Yep," Estela muttered, staring at the hobbit. "Weird."  
  
"Well, now, what was I going to say?" said Barliman, tapping a finger to his forehead.  
"You were about to say something about dancing in a 'frilly pink dress'," said Estela, holding up her index finger.  
Frodo nudged her in the side.  
"Ow! Stop it!"  
  
"One thing drives out another, so I say."  
'Like food and your brain?' thought Estela. She felt incredibly guilty for making fun of the man but he was really starting to get on her nerves. 'Rooms. We want rooms. PLEASE!'  
  
"I'm that busy tonight," said Barliman, "my head is going around. There's a party that came up the Greenway from down South last night--and that was strange enough to begin with. Then there's a traveling company of dwarves going West come in this evening. And now there's you."  
'Yes, there's us. Poor, unfortunate, standing-here-waiting-to-go-to-bed us. Rooms, dear man, rooms!'  
  
"If you weren't hobbits, I doubt we could house you. But we've got a room or two in the north wing that were made special for hobbits, when this place was built. On the ground floor as they usually prefer; round windows and all as they like. Though, there isn't a room for the girl here."  
  
"That's fine," said Estela. "I can sleep outside with the dogs."  
Barliman looked somewhat distressed and Pippin, understanding her intentions, quickly said, "No, no, no, Estela! You can't do that!"  
"Why not?" said Estela, putting a fake 'poor girl' expression on, "I had to do it when I was a child, and I suppose I will have to do it now, too."  
"Well, I won't have it!" Sam, who *obviously* didn't get it, exclaimed, making a few heads turn toward them, including a hooded figure in a weather stained cloak that Estela had noticed was eyeing them earlier when she had stupidly spoken Sindarian. "You will stay in our room...that is, if it's okay with, eh, Mr. Underhill."  
Frodo smiled and shook his head, fully aware of what Estela had been doing. "Yes, she may stay in our room."  
"Oh, alright," she sighed happily. "Thank you, dear friends."  
"Yes, eh, okay," said Barliman, slightly embarrassed. "I hope you'll be comfortable. You'll be wanting supper, I don't doubt. As soon as may be. Come now!"  
  
Barliman led them a short way down a passage, and opened a door. "Here is a nice little parlour!" He said. "I hope it will suit. I'm, eh, sorry about not having a room for you, miss," said Barliman, looking down at the floor. "I truly am."  
  
'Ugh! Please don't act nice and like something worth pitying! I'll feel horrible!'  
"Excuse me now," he continued. "I must be trotting. It's hard work for two legs, but I don't get thinner. I'll look in again later. If you want anything, ring the hand-bell, and Nob will come. I he don't come, ring and shout!"  
  
He left them alone at last, closing the door as he went out.  
  
Estela turned to look at the room. It four small beds, a brown oval rug covering a part of the floor, a small fire burning on the hearth, a few chairs sitting in front of the fire, a small oval shaped table spread with a white table cloth with a large hand bell sitting on top of it, and a few rounded windows facing the street that had thick brown curtains hanging down in front of them, slightly parted in the middle.  
  
"Nice," Estela said. "I just wish it had a TV."  
"A what?" Merry asked.   
"A thing that...never mind."  
"Okay."  
  
Estela looked at the backpack, deciding at last to look in it later, set it down on the floor next to the door then sat down on the brown carpet and looked around, thoughtfully.  
  
"Estela?" said Sam  
"What, Sam?" said Estela, looking at the hobbit that was sitting across the room.   
"Did you really have to sleep on the streets as a girl?"  
Estela started laughing and Pippin and Frodo watched her with smiles on their faces. "No, Sam!" Estela choked. "I was trying to see if he had and extra room that he wasn't telling us about!"  
"Oh." Sam looked down at the floor, blushing.  
"It's okay, Sam, you did wonderful."  
"I did?"  
"Yep."  
  
Sam smiled contentedly and they sat silently, Frodo resting comfortably in one of the chairs by the fire, Sam in another, Pippin sitting on a small wooden chair next to the table, Merry sitting on a chair across from Pippin, and Estela sitting on the floor.  
  
She jumped when the door burst open and Nob came bustling in, bringing candles and a tray full of plates.   
"Will you be wanting anything to drink, masters?" He asked. "And shall I show you the bedrooms while your supper is got ready?"  
  
Frodo and Nob discussed this while Estela slipped off to the bathroom to wash up.  
She opened the small wooden door, ducking as she came in because the door was rather low, took the small pitcher of water, and poured a little into her hands and rubbed some on her face. While she was in the bathroom she heard a loud *thud*! and Nob's cry of surprise and realized that Nob had tripped over Adrian's backpack and started laughing so hard that tears streamed down her cheeks. She quickly calmed herself, though, and washed her face again.   
  
When she got out the hobbits took turns getting washed up then sat down at the table, drinking beer.  
Pippin had asked her if she might like a mug but she declined and sat down in one of the chairs by the fire.   
  
Barliman and Nob soon came in again, bring with them food.  
The set the table so quickly that it took a moment for her to register that it had even happened.  
There was hot soup, cold meats, a blackberry tart, new loaves of bread, slabs of butter, and half a ripe cheese.  
  
Estela looked up and watched the hobbits stare at the food, greedily, their mouths practically watering.  
Barliman stood there for a while, looking at them happily while they ate, and then prepared to leave.  
  
"I don't know whether you would care to join the company, when you have supped," he said. "Perhaps you would rather go to your beds. Still the company would be very pleased to welcome you, if you had a mind. We don't get Outsiders--travelers from the Shire, I should say, begging your pardon--often; and we like to hear a bit of news, or any story or song you may have in mind. But if you please! Ring the bell, if you lack anything!"  
"I will come," said Frodo, smiling.  
"As will I," said Sam.  
"Alright," said Pippin, shoving another piece of cheese in his mouth.  
  
"I shall sit here quietly by the fire for a bit," Merry said, "and perhaps go out later for a sniff of the air. Mind your Ps and Qs, and don't forget that you are supposed to be escaping in secret, and are still on the high-road and not very far from the Shire!"  
"Alright," Pippin replied. "Mind yourself! Don't get lost, and don't forget that it is safer indoors!"  
Frodo turned to Estela. "Are you coming?" He asked.  
  
Estela thought for a moment before saying that she would and stood up and walked with them down the passage and into the common-room of the inn.  
  
As soon as they entered they were greeted with a chorus of welcome from the Bree-landers.  
Barliman introduced the hobbits and Estela to the Bree-folk, but did it so quickly that they hardly caught any names that were said, and when they did catch one or two they weren't sure as to which person they belonged to.  
  
Estela sat down in a chair in a corner and watched Frodo, Sam, and Pippin. She laughed when a group of hobbits with the name "Underhill" started treating Frodo like a long-lost cousin because they couldn't imagine sharing the same name and not be related.  
  
She watched Pippin sit down, talking with some hobbits and Bree-folk, and drinking some ale and Sam follow Frodo wherever he went.  
  
She soon grew accustomed to the thick smoke and the thickness that had seemed to choke her when she had first come down and sat back, letting her mind wander.  
  
'How did I get here? Why am I stuck in this dream? Is this a real place?' She soon began to doubt that this was a dream and was starting to wonder if she really was in a different world.  
'If it is real, then what part do I have to play? And why the heck does that guy keep staring at Frodo?'  
  
Her gaze had wandered to the hooded man that had watched them earlier. His hood hung low, covering his face, so that he could see you but you couldn't see him, and, from the way his head was faced, it looked like he was watching Frodo intently.  
  
She turned her eyes toward Frodo who was talking to Barliman, then slowly started walking toward the man. He stopped when he was standing before him and Estela, though she was all the way across the room, could hear them clearly.   
  
"I am called Strider," the man said, throwing back his hood and revealing a head of shaggy brown hair that had strands of grey scattered around in it, and keen grey eyes that silently studied Frodo. "I am very pleased to meet you Mr.--Underhill, if old Butterbur got your name right."  
"He did," Frodo replied stiffly.   
"Well, Master Underhill," Strider said, "If I were you, I should stop your young friends from talking to much. Drink, fire, and chance-meeting are pleasant enough, but, well--this isn't the Shire. There are queer folk about. Though I say it as shouldn't, you may think," he said with a wry smile. "And there have been even stranger travelers through Bree lately."   
  
Strider fell silent, watching the hobbit closely. Estela followed his gaze as it soon left Frodo and rested on Pippin, and his face registered alarm as he watched the young hobbit.  
  
Pippin was talking to a stout hobbit and some of the Bree-folk about a party of some kind and a hobbit named Bilbo.  
  
"You better do something quick!" She heard Strider whisper to Frodo.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter three is up! Woo-Hoo! I get *ten* points! _clears throat_ Excuse me... Thank you Midnight for my first review! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Yeah! And guess what? This I'm posting another chapter today too! Oh, and what Estela said to Barliman was: "You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny."   
Tenna' ento lye omenta Until next we meet, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
Estela turned her head back to Frodo who had jumped up on a table a was talking loudly. "We are all very much gratified by the kindness of your reception," said Frodo, "and I venture to hope that my brief visit will help to renew the old ties of friendship between the Shire and Bree." Frodo hesitated and coughed.  
  
"A song!" shouted someone, and Estela whipped her head around to look at him.  
"A song! A song!" The room shouted.  
  
Estela turned back to Frodo, and watched him with amusement. Frodo looked around nervously than opened his mouth to sing.   
  
There is an inn, a merry old inn  
beneath an old grey hill,  
and there they brew a beer so brown  
That the Man in the Moon himself came down   
one night to drink his f ill.  
  
The ostler has a tipsy cat   
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;  
And up and down he runs his bow  
Now squeaking high, now purring low,  
now sawing in the middle.  
  
The landlord keeps a little dog  
that is mighty fond of jokes;  
When there's good cheer among the guests,  
He cocks an ear at all the jests  
and laughs until he chokes.  
  
They also keep a hornéd cow  
as proud as any queen;  
But music turns her head like ale,  
And makes her wave her tufted tail  
and dance upon the green.  
  
And O! the rows of silver dishes  
and the store of silver spoons!  
For Sunday there's a special pair,  
And these they polish up with care  
On Saturday afternoons.  
  
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,  
and the cat began to wail;  
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,  
The cow in the garden madly pranced,  
and the little dog chased his tail.  
  
The Man in the Moon took another mug,  
and then rolled beneath his chair;  
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,  
Till in the sky the stars were pale,  
and dawn was in the air.  
  
The ostler said to his tipsy cat:  
'The white horses of the Moon,  
They neigh and champ their silver bits;  
But their master's been and drowned his wits,  
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'   
  
So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,  
a jig that would wake the dead:  
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,  
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:  
'It's after three!' he said.  
  
They rolled the man slowly up the hill   
and bundled him into the Moon,  
While his horses galloped up in the rear,  
And the cow came capering like a deer,   
and a dish ran up with the spoon.  
  
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;  
the dog began to roar,  
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;  
The guests all bounded from their beds  
and danced upon the floor.  
  
With a ping and a pong the fiddle-strings broke!  
the cow jumped over the moon,  
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,  
And the Saturday dish went off at a run  
with the silver Sunday spoon.  
  
The round moon rolled behind the hill  
as the Sun raised up her head.  
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;  
For though it was day, to her surprise  
they all went back to bed!  
  
There was a loud long applause and Estela thought it was a good time to leave, otherwise she would start laughing right there.  
  
She slipped away as Frodo began the song again and went back into their parlor.   
  
"Hey, Merry!" She called, looking around the room for the hobbit after not seeing him when she first entered.  
  
She looked behind the open door then behind one of the chairs. "Hello?" She lifted up a cushion off the chair. "Hello-o-o! Merry!"  
  
Pippin, Frodo, and Sam walked in at that moment, each holding a couple faggots of wood in their arms.  
"Hullo, Estela!" smiled Pippin. "Did you have a good time? We didn't see you leave."  
Estela nodded, laughing softly to herself, and watched them feed the fire.  
  
She turned around and yelped in surprise when she saw Strider sitting in a chair, feet resting on the footstool. Instinctively, she grabbed a pillow off the other chair and threw it at him.  
  
Strider didn't expect the woman to throw a pillow at him, and was surprised at the speed in which it flew, hitting him squarely in the face.  
"The aliens have invaded!" shouted Estela in her fear.   
The hobbits, who had turned around when she yelped, were trying hard not to laugh, a few snickers escaping their lips as Strider tried to stand up and they watched the fear-filled woman holding another pillow above her head, ready to throw any minute lest he should make a move.  
  
"What is Strider doing in our room?" Estela asked Frodo.  
"It was because I promised to talk to him," smiled Frodo.  
  
"Well, what do you want?" Estela said to Strider who was staring at her in shock. "Come on, out with it! What have you to say?"  
"Several things," replied Strider after clearing his throat and regaining his composure. "But, of course, I have my price."  
  
"I'm sorry but we don't have any money," said Estela. "Nor do we have coupons to the nearest Blockbuster, or any jewelry, so bye!"  
  
"That is not what I meant! I mean just this: I will tell you what I know, and give you some good advice--but I shall want a reward."  
"And *how* exactly is that not what you said in the first place?"  
  
"What pray tell is the reward that you desire?" asked Frodo.  
"No more than you can afford," answered Strider with a slow smile. "Just this: you must take me along with you until I wish to leave."  
"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed Frodo. "Even if I wanted another companion, I should not agree to any such thing, until I knew a good deal more about you, and your business."  
  
"Then why did you take Estela with us?" asked Pippin.  
"Because I'm sweet, wonderful, innocent, and beautiful," said Estela flatly.  
  
Strider stared at her then laughed, deep and hearty. "Where did you get her?" He asked.  
"They picked me up on the side of the road," answered Estela, a little annoyed at the man for laughing at her. This only made the hobbits join in laughter with Strider.  
  
"What?!"   
  
"I am sorry, milady , but I see that your are not from around here," said Strider, smiling kindly at her.  
"Yeah, well, I'm not from this world either!"  
  
Strider's smile faded and he looked at the girl, curiously. "What do you mean by this?"  
"Hey, *I* don't even know what I mean by it. All I know is, I was just standing next to this stone arch thing," she made a huge motion with her arms that resembled an arch , "and poof! I'm here in Pony Land."  
"A gate?" asked Strider, surprised.  
"Yes."  
  
Strider stood silently in front of them, looking at Estela the whole time. Estela started to get uneasy and squirmed under his grave stare. His head suddenly turned toward the door and he quickly went to it, and opened it. He shut it quietly then sat back down in the chair.  
  
"I have quick ears," he said, "and though I cannot disappear, I have hunted many wild and wary things and I can usually avoid being seen, if I wish. Now, I was behind the hedge this evening on the Road west of Bree, when four hobbits came out of the Downlands, I need not repeat all that they said to old Bambadil or to one another, but one thing interested me. *Please remember*, said one of them, *that the name Baggins must not be mentioned. I am Mr. Underhill, if any name must be given.* This and the girl, Estela, that you have brought with you interested me so much that I decided to follow these hobbits. I slipped over the gate behind them. Maybe Mr. Baggins has an honest reason for leaving his name behind; but if so, I should advise him and his friends to be more careful."  
  
"You followed us?! Your a, a...*meanie*!" said Estela, throwing the pillow at him, which, of course, he ducked easily because he was ready this time.  
  
"I don't know what interest my name has for anyone in Bree," said Frodo angrily, "and I still have to learn why it interests you. Mr. Strider may have an honest reason for spying and eavesdropping; but if so, I should advise him to explain it."  
  
"Sorry, Pip," Estela stage whispered to Pippin, "Frodo gets two more points."  
Pippin frowned and Strider said, "Well answered! But the explanation is simple: I was looking for a Hobbit called Frodo Baggins. I wanted to find him quickly. I learned that he was carrying out of the Shire, well, a secret that concerned me and my friends. Now don't mistake me!" He said as Frodo rose from the seat he was sitting in and Sam jumped up with a scowl. "I shall take more care of the secret than you do. And care is needed!" He leaned forward and looked at each of them. "Watch every shadow!" He said in a low voice. "Black horsemen have passed through Bree. On Monday one came through Greenway, they say; and another appeared later, coming up the Greenway from the south."  
  
They all were silent for a moment, thinking over what Strider had told them. All, that is, except Estela. "Hey, um, guys?" She said, waving a hand in the air. "Yeah, um, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."  
"It is good news that you know not of what we speak," Strider said, looking up at her. "For now is not your time. You will know everything you wish, if I am correct in my thoughts, soon enough." Strider closed his mouth and no other information could be prodded out of him.  
  
"I ought to have guessed it from the way the gatekeeper greeted us," said Frodo to Sam and Pippin. "And the landlord seems to have heard something. Why did he press us to join the company? And why on earth did we behave so foolishly: we ought to have stayed quiet in here."  
  
"It would have been better," said Strider. "I would have stopped your going into the common-room, if I could; but the innkeeper would not let me in to see you, or take a message."  
"Do you think he---" began Frodo.  
"No, I don't think any harm of old Butterbur. Only he does not altogether like mysterious vagabonds of my sort."  
Frodo gave him a puzzled look.  
"Well, I have a rather rascally look, have I not?" said Strider with a smile and a queer gleam in his eye. "But I hope we shall get to know one another better. When we do, I hope you will explain what happened at the end of your song. For that little prank---"  
"It was sheer accident!" Frodo interrupted.  
"I wonder," said Strider. "Accident then. That accident has made your position dangerous."  
  
"And, once again, I have no idea what you're talking about!" complained Estela, throwing her arms up into the air.  
"Please, child!" said Strider, firmly. "Hold your tongue until we are through."  
"I'm twenty-three years---" Estela started.  
"Please, Estela," said Frodo just as firmly, if not more, as Strider. "Sit down."  
Estela sighed and flopped down in the other chair by the fire, her arms crossed.  
  
"I knew these horsemen were pursuing me," Frodo continued, "but not at any rate they seemed to have missed me and to have gone away."  
"You must not count on that!" said Strider sharply. "They will return. And more are coming. There are others. I know their number. I know these Riders." He paused and his eyes went cold and hard, almost frightening them. "And there are some folk in Bree who are not to be trusted."   
  
He paused then went on.   
"Bill Ferny, for instance. He has an evil name in the Bree-land, and queer folk call at his house. You must have noticed him among the company: a swarthy sneering fellow. He was very close with one of the Southern strangers, and they slipped out together just after your 'accident'. Not all of those Southerners mean well; and as for Ferny, he would sell anything to anybody; or make mischief for amusement."  
"What will Ferny sell, and what has me accident got to do with him?" said Frodo.  
"News of you, of course," said Strider "An account of your performance would be very interesting to certain people. After that they would hardly need to be told your real name. It seems to me only to likely that they will hear of it before the night is over. Is that enough? You can do as you like about my reward: take me as a guide or not."  
  
"How 'bout a doggie treat?" Estela piped up.  
  
Frodo rolled his eyes and Strider continued, "But I may say that I know all the lands between the Shire and the Misty Mountains, for I have wandered over them for many years. I am older than I look. I might prove useful. You will have to leave the open road tonight; for the horsemen will watch it night and day. You may escape from Bree, and be allowed to go forward when the Sun is up; but you won't go far. They will come on you in the wild, in some dark place where there is no help. Do you wish them to find you? They are terrible!"  
  
Estela and the hobbits looked at him, and saw with surprise that his face was drawn as if in pain, and his hands clenched the arms of the chair. The room was very quiet and still, and the light seemed to have grown dim.  
  
"Strider?" Estela said, concerned. "Strider, are you alright?"  
  
"There!" cried Strider after a bit, drawing his hand across his brow. "Perhaps I know more about these pursuers than you do. You fear them, but you do not fear them enough, yet. Tomorrow you will have to escape, if you can. Strider can take you by paths that are seldom trodden. Will you have him?"  
There was a heavy silence and after a bit Estela said softly, "This is none of my business, as Strider says. I will go to bed now. Excuse me."   
  
She walked out of the room before anyone could object and headed toward the bedroom.  
Once there, she climbed into one of the small beds, noting with a sigh that it was too small and her feet hung over the edge.   
  
She looked around the room silently then took off her socks and shoes and climbed under the covers sighing again when she realized that she would have to sleep in her clothes.  
  
She pulled the covers up under her chin, ignoring the cold draft sweeping over her legs now, and tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. She sighed again then just stared up at the ceiling, soon falling somewhere inbetween asleep and awake.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I hope you guys like it so far! I'm tired so I'm going to stop writing. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up tomorrow. Thanks for the reviews, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	7. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
Hazel sparkling eyes. Staring at her, smiling. Beautiful, long, soft, honey-gold hair, sweeping across her face.   
  
"Mommy," a girl, ten years old, laying on a flower patterned bed, smiled "I love you."  
  
Red full lips curved in a smile. The most beautiful smile. And it was all hers. The girl had that smile all to herself. No one else.  
  
"I love you too, honey," said the lips.   
  
They kissed the girl on the forehead then backed away, toward the man standing by the doorway.   
  
"Daddy? Can I have a kiss?" said the girl.  
  
The man smiled then advanced toward the girl.   
  
His eyes, grey, filled with happiness, looked down at her lovingly. Her father kissed her lightly on the forehead then backed away and joined her mother at the door.   
  
They smiled at the girl then turned the light off and closed the door, leaving it cracked so she could have a nightlight.  
  
The girl fell asleep knowing that she always had two loving guardians protecting her; never letting her be harmed, and never letting her feel sadness or worthlessness. Never letting her know fear or pain and never letting her know the meaning of the word "alone".  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Estela woke to see two huge sky-blue eyes staring down at her and someone shaking her gently. She inhaled sharply and let out a cry of fear.   
  
"Shh, Estela!" said the eyes, Pippin, softly. "I am sorry to awake you, seeing as you were smiling in your sleep and all, but Aragorn commanded that I should. Did you know you sleep with your eyes open?"  
  
"What?" asked Estela, groggily. Her fear had subsided and she was now sitting up in the bed staring blankly at Pippin, her mind not registering what he had said.   
  
"Come, Estela, we must go back to the parlor," said Pippin again.  
  
Estela sighed, finally understanding what he said, and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She shivered as her bare feet touched the cold, hard, wooden floor and stood up slowly.   
  
She followed Pippin slowly down the passage and back into the parlor. There they saw Merry, Frodo, and Sam lying on the floor, sleeping, and Strider sitting in one of the chairs that he had moved to the window. He peered out silently, turning his head a moment, and nodded a greeting then turned back to the window.  
  
"Oh, hey," said Estela, seeing Merry on the floor, "Merry came back. Where did he go?"  
  
"For a walk," answered Pippin.  
"I see. Can I go back to bed now?"  
  
"Yes, milady," said Strider. "Your bed is over there." He looked to a corner of the room where there were two cream coloured blankets on the floor.  
  
"I get to sleep on the floor?"  
  
Strider nodded, watching her with amusement.  
  
"Wonderful," she sighed, walking to the blankets. She bent down and straightened one of them up over the floor then lay down on it and pulled the second on top of her.  
  
She laid her hands, clasped, on top of her chest and tried to fall "asleep". After a few moments she gave up and instead gazed up at the ceiling.  
  
'This is getting to be a bad habit,' she thought. 'Can you blind yourself for doing this too often?'  
  
Strider's chair creaked as he shifted his weight and she sat up to look at him. She saw only his back, illuminated by the red and orange glowing of the small fire burning in the hearth, because she was lying behind him.  
  
She carefully removed the blankets and silently tip-toed behind him.   
"Hi," she said.  
  
He looked over his shoulder, surprised. Estela noted that his hand was on the hilt of his sword, already drawing it out a bit.  
  
"Put that back," she said indignantly. "I'd rather live if you don't mind!"  
  
Strider smiled slightly and sheathed his sword. "Milady, forgive me," said Strider, "I did not hear you wake."  
  
Estela smiled, held up her index finger, motioning for him to wait a moment, then went back to get her blanket, and sat down in a chair beside him.  
  
"Where are we going, Strider?" asked Estela, once sitting comfortably in her chair.  
  
Strider frowned slightly. "Ah, you were not here," he said softly. "My name is not Strider. I am Aragorn son of Arathorn."  
  
"Amorman!" Estela exclaimed. "Amorman in Blee!"  
"Excuse me?"  
Estela laughed softly then made a wave of her hand. "Never mind, Aragorn, it will take too long to explain."  
"I have time."  
"Yes, well um...You never answered my question."  
Aragorn laughed and looked quickly out the window then back at her. "Alright," he said. "We are going to Rivendell. The Lord Elrond that dwells there will to answer any questions that you might have."  
  
"Lord Elrond," breathed Estela. "My mother...she told me stories of a Lord Elrond. He was...an Elf?"  
"Half-Elf. Have you been to Rivendell before?"  
"No. It doesn't exist."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Rivendell. It doesn't exist."  
  
Estela sighed, gathering her feet up under her and resting her chin on her knees. She looked out the window silently.   
  
"Rivendell does exist, milady," said Aragorn softly. "I have been there."  
  
Estela didn't look at him, keeping her eyes glued to the streets of Bree. "How though?" she said softly to herself. "This world...this world is a book! You don't exist! You, you and Merry and Pippin! Frodo and Sam, Rivendell...Elrond..." she trailed off, burying her head in her knees.   
  
"Milady?" said Aragorn, concerned. He reached over and touched the top of her head, gently. "Estela? Estela, are you crying?"  
  
Estela looked up and Aragorn. "I'm not crying," she said almost viciously.  
"Yes, milady."  
  
They sat, silently staring at each other, before Estela said, "Tell me about Rivendell, Aragorn, tell me about..." she hesitated, "tell me about Elrond."  
"What do you wish to know?"   
  
Estela was quiet for a moment before replying. "Was there ever a person that came from a different world? And fell in love with an...Elf..?"  
"As a matter of fact," said Aragorn, "there was one."  
"There was?"  
"Well...it is a fairy tale among the young ones, but it is still what you wish to here, am I correct?"  
"Yes, please."  
  
Aragorn leaned back in his chair and started to speak, "There was once an Elf, Andorian, who was a close friend of Lord Elrond," he said. "One of his closest they say.   
  
"One day a mortal woman who had left her world and entered ours by means of a stone arch, or gate, appeared in Rivendell.   
  
"The Elf Andorian fell in love with this mortal woman, Marie, and decided to help her find the gate she had used to help her get home to her world, however much it hurt him to see her leave.  
  
"They found the gate but Marie was hesitant to leave Andorian behind, whom she had grown to love also, so she decided to stay behind.   
  
"Andorian was overjoyed at her decision, but soon noticed that the woman was very miserable and homesick so he made a decision of his own. He chose to be mortal." Aragorn fell silent for a moment, deep in thought, then continued, "He and Marie went back to the gate and departed, leaving Middle-Earth, and Lord Elrond, behind." Aragorn sighed. "That is the end of the story. It is much longer than what I have told you, but I thought that you might want to ask a few more questions."  
  
Estela stared at him. "My parents told me that story."  
"Oh? I thought that you said Rivendell didn't exist. How could they possibly know that story if Rivendell does not exist?"  
"But it is a dream! You're a dream!"   
"Milady, why do you ask me to tell you of these things and then accuse me of being a dream?   
  
"Why does this never end? Aragorn, do you understand me? This place isn't real!"  
  
Aragorn didn't reply and sat thinking for a moment.  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
"Milady," said Aragorn softly, "what can I do to prove that this is real and not a dream?"  
"You can pinch me," Estela muttered.  
Aragorn sighed, leaned over, and pinched her arm.  
  
"Ow! I wasn't serious!"  
  
"Alright, that did not work. Let me see... When dreaming, one seldom thinks it is a dream," said Aragorn. "And one seldom says to pinch oneself. Do you see?"  
  
"Okay, maybe this is a really weird dream where I told you to pinch me and I knew that it was a dream it was a dream?"  
  
Aragorn sighed again. "This is getting very tiring," he said. "Maybe this will help..." he unsheathed a dagger that hung on his left side near his hip and put the tip onto her arm.  
  
"What are you doing?" asked Estela.  
"In a dream you never feel pain; only a numbness when you are wounded," explained Aragorn. "Now I am sorry, Estela, I promise not to make it hurt too bad."  
  
With a quick motion he drew the dagger back and cut a small line on her arm.   
  
"Hey!" she cried, almost waking the hobbits. She yanked her arm away from Aragorn and looked at the cut on it that had started to bleed.   
  
"What are you, a madman?! You know I should..." she looked at her arm. Blood, real blood, came from it and pain had settled there. "What the..?"  
  
"Do you see?" said Aragorn as he sheathed the dagger. "This is *not* a dream. I am so very sorry for hurting you and I ask for your forgiveness, but I had to prove it to you."  
  
"Yeah, so maybe I was wrong," said Estela, dabbing the wound with the blanket. "Do you have any band-aids?"  
"Band-aids? What are 'band-aids'?"  
"Never mind."   
  
Estela looked up from her arm and toward the parlor door. Adrian's backpack lay by it, now out of the way.  
Aragorn watched her get up, pick the backpack up from the floor then walk back to the chair and sit down.  
  
"What is that?" he asked.   
"It's a pack."  
"If it is, than it is the strangest one I have ever seen."  
  
Estela nodded and unzipped the backpack. She reached her hand inside and pulled out a magazine that had "Teen Life" written on the top. She sighed and threw the magazine on the floor. She pulled a few other things out: hairspray, gum, a change purse, mints, a piece of notebook paper with "Jason is hot, Jason is cute, Jason is *totally* hot" and some doodles of hearts with arrows shot through them written all over it, makeup, a pad of pink paper and a pen, head-phones and a few CDs with various songs on them, perfume, and...socks.  
  
"Ah!" cried Estela, slapping her forehead. "Why can't she have *one* band-aid? Is it too hard for her to be prepared?"   
  
She reached her hand in and felt around the bottom of Adrian's backpack. She was just about to take her hand out and send the backpack flying across the room when her hand bumped into a light object.   
  
"Hey, look at this," she said, taking the object out. "Isn't that amazing? A whole *pack* of band-aids."  
  
She took one out, her hopes for a regular bandage dashed when she saw that it had a picture of the Backstreet Boys covering it, and put it over the cut.  
  
"This Mr. Jason must be very warm," remarked Aragorn who had picked up Adrian's notebook paper and was now reading it.  
"No, that means, eh... Never mind. Why do you think I'm here, Aragorn?"  
"I think...I think that that is for you to find out."  
"Thanks a lot." She looked around the room. "I cannot believe that this place is really real!"  
Aragorn groaned. "Please, do not make me cut your arm off!"  
"Be quiet, Armorman."  
  
A distant sound of crashing reached Estela's ears. "What's that?" she asked, looking out the window.   
"I do not hear anything," answered Aragorn.  
  
AWAKE ! FEAR! FIRE! FOES! AWAKE!  
  
Estela jumped in fear and fell off her chair and onto the floor. "What the heck is that!" whispered Estela, sending an I-told-you look to Aragorn.  
Aragorn didn't answer, looking out the window intently.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Frodo awake and look at both of them, puzzled.  
"Go back to sleep, Frodo, everything is alright," she said. The hobbit nodded, turned over and went back to sleep.  
  
Estela turned to Strider and he drew the curtains shut and pushed back the shutters with a bang.   
  
"Everything *is* okay, right, Aragorn?"  
"Go to sleep, milady," said Aragorn turning toward her. "I will wake you in the morning."  
  
Estela sighed and brought her blanket back to her place on the floor. She lay down and gazed up at the ceiling. "I'm going to go blind," she said and quickly fell "asleep".  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you like it, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	8. Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
  
"Awake now, milady," said Aragorn, gently shaking a sleeping Estela.   
Estela's eyes focused on Aragorn and she sat up.   
  
The grey light of the early morning was drifting through the window along with cold air, making her shiver.  
She pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and watched Aragorn rouse the others.  
"Come, let me show you something," said Aragorn once everybody was up.  
  
He led them back to the bedrooms where they stood and stared at it in shock. The windows had been forced open and were now swinging in the wind, and the curtains were flapping; the beds were tossed about, and the bolsters slashed and flung about; the brown mat was torn to pieces.  
  
Estela looked at Pippin. "You get thirty points." Pippin didn't reply, just nodding, and looked at the room in utter shock.  
  
"I will be back," said Aragorn, walking out the door. He soon returned with Barliman who looked sleepy and frightened. He had hardly closed his eyes all night (so he said), but he had never heard a sound.  
  
"Never has such a thing happened in my time," he cried, raising his hands in horror. "Guests not getting to sleep in their beds, and good bolsters ruined and all! What are we coming to?"  
  
"Dark times," said Aragorn. "But for the presence you may be left in peace, when you have got rid of us. We will leave at once. Never mind about breakfast: a drink and a bite standing will have to do," he said, seeing Pippin's shocked look. "We shall be packed in a few moments."  
  
Barliman hurried off to see that their ponies were got ready, and to fetch them a "bite". But very soon he came back in dismay. "The ponies have vanished!" he cried. The stable doors had been opened that night, and they were gone: not only Merry's ponies, but every other horse and beast in the place.  
  
'That really stinks,' thought Estela, noting Frodo's thoughtful and crushed look.   
  
"Ponies would not help us to escape horsemen," said Aragorn, looking hard at Frodo. "We should not go much slower on foot, not on the roads that I mean to take. I was going to walk anyway, and I see that Miss Autumn can go far on foot as well. It is the food and stores that trouble me. We cannot count on getting anything to eat between here and Rivendell, except what we take; and we ought to take plenty to spare; for we may be delayed, or forced to go round-about, far off the direct way. How much are you prepared to carry?"  
  
"As much as we must," said Pippin with a sinking heart, but trying to show that he was a lot tougher than he looked (or felt). Estela saw this and smiled. "I will take whatever any of them can't carry and more."  
Aragorn looked at her oddly in a way as to say "I didn't mean you."  
  
"I can carry enough for two," said Sam defiantly.  
  
"Can't anything else be done, Mr. Butterbur?" asked Frodo. "Can't we get a couple of ponies in the village, or even just one for the baggage? I don't suppose we could hire them, but we might be able to buy them," he added doubtfully, wondering if he could afford it.  
  
"I doubt it," said Barliman unhappily. "The two or three riding ponies that there were in Bree were stabled in my yard, and they're gone. As for other animals, horses or ponies for draught or what not, there are very few of them in Bree, and they won't be for sale. But I'll do what I can. I'll rout out Bob and send him round as soon as may be."  
  
"Yes," said Aragorn reluctantly, "you had better do that. I am afraid we shall have to get one pony at least. But so ends all hope of starting early, and slipping away quietly! We might as well have blown a horn to announce our departure. That was part of their plan, no doubt."  
  
"There is one crumb of comfort," said Merry, "and more than a crumb, I hope: we can have breakfast while we wait--let's get hold of Nob!"  
  
Estela started laughing when she saw Pippin's face light up at the thought of more than just a drink and a bite to eat. Pippin blushed a deep shade of crimson then followed them out to the common-room were a few others were eating their breakfast.  
  
While they ate the hobbits told her about their home, the Shire. "Who is Bilbo?" asked Estela, remembering the night before.  
"Oh, he's Frodo's uncle," said Pippin. "A very nice hobbit indeed. He had a birthday party just last week. It was the grandest thing I've seen in quite a while. Gandalf brought magnificent fireworks. It was all very lovely."  
  
Seeing the uncomfortable look that Frodo was giving Pippin (who was oblivious to it) Estela decided that he didn't like fireworks or something else was bothering and changed the subject.  
  
"How old is he?" she blurted out. It had been the first thing that came to mind. She looked at the hobbits, sheepishly, and flushed.   
  
'Great, now they're going to think you're rude,' she yelled at herself. She sighed and took a sip of water.  
  
"A hundred and eleven years old," said Pippin proudly, not thinking her rude at all.   
  
Her water got stuck somewhere in her esophagus and she started choking. Aragorn jumped from his seat to help her. "Are you alright?" he asked patting her back.  
  
"One hundred and eleven years old?!" cried Estela, staring at Pippin in shock. Aragorn looked annoyed and sat back down in his seat.  
"Yes," answered Pippin slowly. "Is there something wrong?"  
"Where I come from people barely reach the age of eighty!"  
"There are many old things here," said Aragorn. "In Rivendell dwell Elves. Elves live forever unless killed or they die of a broken heart."  
"Well I'll make sure not to brake any hearts when we reach Rivendell."  
  
Bob came in, interrupting their conversation. He informed them that there were no horses or ponies for sale in Bree--except one: Bill Ferny had one that he might possibly sell. "A poor half-starved creature it is," said Bob, "but he won't part with it for less than thrice its worth, seeing how you're placed, not if I know Bill Ferny."  
"Hey, um, isn't he evil?" asked Estela.  
Bob smiled, agreeing with her, and waited for an answer.  
  
"Bill Ferny?" said Frodo. "Isn't there some trick? Wouldn't the beast bolt back to him with all our stuff, or help in tracking us, or something?"  
  
"I wonder," said Aragorn. "But I cannot imagine any animal running home to him, once it got away. I fancy this is only an afterthought of Master Ferny's: just a way of increasing his profits from the affair. The chief danger is that the poor beast's probably at death's door. But there does not seem any choice. What does he want for it?"  
  
"Twelve silver pennies, sir," said Bob. Frodo sighed and let Bob lead them out of the inn and to Ferny's yard.  
  
"Good Lord," muttered Estela, staring at the bony, underfed, dispirited beast.   
"It may seem weak, but it is not dead yet," Aragorn muttered to himself, looking at the creature with pity.  
  
In the end, Barliman paid for the beast himself, and offered Merry another eighteen pence as some compensation for the lost animals. He was an honest man, and well-off as things were reckoned in Bree; but thirty silver pennies was a sore blow to him, and being cheated by Bill Ferny made it harder to bear.  
  
They went back to the inn and the hobbits repacked their things while Estela waited in the common-room. A few of the guests stared at her as she spoke to herself in Sindarin.  
  
"Ikotane Bill Ferny is evil ar' i' Mor Dressy Gwaith are evil vee' eithel. Hmm. Interesting. Ar' Aragorn will il tell amin mani is going no'. Sina is ilya sai frustrating," she sighed.   
  
"Uh...yeah, Estela?"   
  
Estela looked up to see Merry staring at her oddly. "Yes?" she said.  
"Aragorn wants us to go now." said Merry. Estela nodded and picked up Adrian's backpack that she had grabbed from the room earlier, and slung it over her shoulder. "Hi-ho, hi-ho it's off to work we go!" she said marching out of the inn like a soldier.  
"Yes then..." Merry sighed, and walking out of the inn after her.  
  
They met Aragorn and the other hobbits, who were acting *really* impatient, outside and finally began their journey to Rivendell.  
  
They walked toward the entrance/exit of Bree. Estela noted that many people were looking out their windows or standing on the front step, staring at them.   
  
One man in particular was staring over a hedge boldly. He had heavy black brows and dark scornful eyes; his large mouth curled in a sneer. He was smoking a short black pipe. As they approached he took it out of his mouth and spat.   
  
"Morning, Longshanks!" he said. "Off early? Found some friends at last?"  
Strider nodded but did not answer.   
  
"Morning my little friends!" said the man to the others. Estela watched in disgust as he looked her over, a small smile on his face.   
"Shut your mouth," said Aragorn sharply, noting this.  
"Ohh! I see you don't that," said the man, a little surprised.   
  
Strider kept walking, not saying a word.   
  
"I suppose you know who you've taken up with?" said the man. "That's Stick-at-naught Strider, that it! Though I've heard other names not so pretty."  
"If you don't shut you face, you're going to be Without-brains Retard!" shouted Estela. It wasn't the best comeback she had ever made but it worked.  
  
"Watch out tonight!" continued the man, trying his best to keep a shocked look of his ugly face. "And you, Sammie, don't go ill-treating my poor old pony! Pah!" He spat out again.  
  
Sam turned quickly. "And you, Ferny," he said, "put your ugly face out of sight, or it will get hurt!" With a sudden flick, quick as lightening, an apple left his hand and hit Bill square in the nose. He ducked to late, and curses came from behind the hedge. "Waste of a good apple," said Sam regretfully, and strode on.  
  
"What did I tell you?" said Estela, stopping for a moment to stare at the hedge. "Without-brains Retard." She sighed and ran to catch up with the rest of the group.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It's short, yes, but I hope you like it. From now on I'm going to post the chapters on the weekend. Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. PLEASE REVIEW!!! Estela said: "So Bill Ferny is evil and the Black Dressy People are evil as well. Hmm. Interesting. And Aragorn will not tell me what is going on. This is very frustrating." Thank you, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	9. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
It was the fifth day out of Bree.  
  
Estela groaned and scratched a small light pink bump on her arm caused by the biting of a midge back in the Midgewater Marshes. She looked eastward toward a line of hills. The highest of them was at the right of the others. It had a conical top, slightly flattened at the summit.  
  
"That is Weathertop," said Aragorn. "The Old Road, which we have left far away on our right, runs south of it and passes not far from its foot. We might reach it by noon tomorrow, if we head straight towards it. I suppose we had better do so."  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Frodo.  
  
"I mean: when we do get there, it is not certain what we shall find. It is close to the Road."  
  
Estela sighed and sat down on the ground. She had long since given up trying to understand what they said. She took Adrian's backpack off her shoulder and looked at it, brow furrowed in thought. What had happened to the girl? Surely she had not been transported to this freaky place, right? If so, where was she?  
  
She looked up at Aragorn. His dark brown hair was dampened with sweat, every once in a while hanging in front of his grey eyes.   
  
His long strong hand gripped the hilt of his sword then released it over and again while his other hand went to his brow to wipe the sweat out of his eyes.   
  
His long weather stained cloak swayed slightly in the wind and his legs in the long faded-brown boots shifted slightly.  
  
"You do make me feel uncomfortable and lonesome, Strider!" said Sam, snapping her out of her thoughts.  
  
"What do you advise us to do?" asked Frodo.  
  
"I think," answered Aragorn slowly, as if he was not quite sure, "I think the best thing to do is go straight eastward from here as we can, to make for the line of hills, not for Weathertop. There we can strike a path I know that runs at their feet; it will bring us to Weathertop from the north and less openly. Then we shall see what we shall see."  
  
"Right," said Estela, climbing to her feet and dusting her knees of out of habit. "Then lets get going!"  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
It was mid-day on the sixth day out of Bree.  
  
"Well, here we are!" said Merry, looking around.   
  
They were standing in the midst of a wide ring ancient stonework, now crumbling or covered with age-long grass. But in the center a cairn of broken stones had been piled. They were blackened as if with fire. About them the turf was burned to the roots and all within the ring the grass was scorched and shriveled, as if flames had swept the hill-top; but there was no sing of any living thing.  
  
"And very cheerless and uninviting it looks! There is no water and no shelter. And no sign of Gandalf. But I don't blame him for not waiting--if he ever came here."  
  
"Who is Gandalf?" asked Estela. "I have heard his name mentioned a few times."  
"Gandalf is an old, kind wizard," said Sam. "He's a great friend of Master Frodo, he is. Nice fellow, too. He said he'd meet us on Frodo's last birthday, but we've seen no head or tail of the fellow since he told us."  
"I see. Why do you wish to go to Rivendell?"  
  
The hobbits didn't answer right away. "It is because..." said Frodo, trying to answer the question without really revealing anything to her. "It has to do with something that I bear. I am brining it to Rivendell."  
  
Estela nodded and saw out of the corner of her eye Aragorn, watching her carefully.  
  
"I wonder," he said suddenly, looking away from her and to their surroundings thoughtfully. "Even if he was a day or two behind us at Bree, he could have arrived here first. He can ride very swiftly if need presses." He stopped suddenly and looked at the stone on the top of the cairn; it was flatter than the others, and whiter, as if had escaped the fire. He picked it up and examined it, turning it in his fingers. "This has been handled recently," he said. "What do you think of these marks?"  
  
Estela peered over his shoulder at the rock. It had markings scratched on the flat underside.  
  
"There seems to be a stroke, a dot, and three more strokes," said Frodo.  
  
"The stroke on the left might be a G-rune with thin branches," said Aragorn. "It might be a sing left by Gandalf."  
  
Estela's mind wandered back to Frodo's "thing that he bore" as they blabbed some more about the old wizard named Gandalf and his army sings he left behind.   
  
'The ring that he must throw in the volcano,' she thought. 'I guess I'm not completely trusted, am I?' She huffed slightly and decided to get her mind off the subject.  
  
She begin to see and old man with big, bushy, white eyebrows and a long white beard dressed in camouflage and a camouflaged helmet, standing upright and straight, and holding a crop in his right hand. "Hut two, three, four! Hut two, three, four!" said her mind's version of a army Gandalf. It started walking back in forth, taking two strides then turning abruptly and taking two strides in the opposite direction.  
  
She giggled and went to another creation.   
  
Her version of Lord Elrond formed. He was three-thousand years old, making him wrinkled and bald. He wore a long, white, flowing robe that glided across the floor as he walked. Because he was wise, he carried a scroll around in his left hand, every once in a while stopping, opening it and spouting out unimportant facts. "There are forty-billion-katrillion-bazzilion-million oatmeal flakes eaten a year!" he shouted, jumping at the sound of his loud croaky voice echoing in her mind.   
  
She laughed, making the others look at her for a brief moment before talking again.  
  
Another picture formed in her mind, this time of Bilbo Baggins.  
  
A fat short man, Bilbo, walked around in a room furnished with a long table, a white tablecloth covering it, and on chair at one end. The table was covered with many different kinds of foods, all looking extremely good. Estela could feel her mouth watering as she watched the hobbit stop for a moment and stare at the food with a shocked expression on his face. His hands flew to his mouth and he quickly scrambled to get into the chair. He reached his hand out to take a drumstick off a turkey sitting a few inches in front of him, but Army Gandalf and Wise Old Lord Elrond came in at that moment and ate everything in about .2 seconds. Gandalf and Lord Elrond quickly left the table, leaving and distressed Bilbo who was on the edge of tears. "But...why didn't they leave the marmalade?" he cried.  
  
By now Estela was laughing so hard at her mind's creations that the others were staring at her surprised and slightly frightened.  
  
"Yes, eh, well...a fortnight?" asked Frodo, addressing Aragorn. "A lot may happen in that time!"  
"It may," said Aragorn softly.  
They stood silently for a while on the hilltop, near its southward edge.   
  
Frodo gave a cry suddenly, and clutched Aragorn's arm. "Look," he said pointing downwards.  
  
At once Aragorn threw himself down on the ground behind the ruined circle, pulling Frodo down beside him. Merry threw himself down alongside.  
"What are you guys doing?" asked Estela, staring down at the frightened hobbits and Aragorn. Aragorn didn't respond, pulling her down on the grown beside him. "Lay flat and still," he said.  
  
"What is it," whispered Merry.  
  
"I do not know, but I fear the worst," answered Aragorn.  
  
Slowly they crawled up to the edge of the ring again, and peered through a cleft between two jagged stones. The light was no longer bright, for the clear morning had faded, and clouds creeping out of the East had now overtaken the sun, as it began to go down.   
  
Estela looked at the black specks below and squinted. Her eyes widened in surprise as the specks soon became clear. Black horses with riders, clad in black, that slouched slightly.  
  
"The Black Riders," she whispered.  
  
"Yes," said Aragorn grimly, staring at the Riders. "The enemy is here!"  
  
Hastily they crept away and slipped down the north side of the hill to find their companions.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Estela was sitting down on the ground, listening to Aragorn and Merry talk, and getting extremely frustrated at not knowing what was going on.  
  
"Can the Riders *see*?" asked Merry. "I mean, they seem usually to have used their noses rather than their eyes, smelling for us, if smelling is the right word, at least in the daylight. But you made us lie down flat when you saw them down below; and now you talk of being seen, if we move."  
  
"I was to careless on the hilltop," answered Aragorn with a sigh.  
  
"I'm going to the spring," stated Estela, climbing to her feet, tired of not understanding them. She stretched out her cramped arms, a satisfying crack coming from both of them.   
  
"Do not go far," cautioned Aragorn.   
"Alrighty then," she sighed, walking away to the spring.  
  
Once there, she found a great rock some ten yards away that was about 5'7''--as tall as she was. She climbed it and undid her hair from the black hair band that she had found in her jeans pocket and let the soft breeze blow through it. She liked being up high, knowing that some things couldn't reach her, and being able to see more.  
  
She closed her eyes and let the sounds of Middle-Earth surround her.  
  
Soon the sound of Aragorn's soft deep voice made its way toward her, allowing itself to be heard because of her enhanced hearing.  
  
The leaves were long, the grass was green,  
The hemlock-umbles tall and fair,  
And in the glade a light was seen  
Of stars in shadow shimmering.  
Tinúviel was dancing there  
To music of a pipe unseen,  
And light of stars was in her hair,  
And in her raiment glimmering.  
  
There Beren came from mountains cold,  
And lost he wandered under leaves,  
And where the Elven-river rolled  
He walked alone and sorrowing.  
He peered between the hemlock-leaves,  
And saw in wonder flowers of gold  
Upon her mantel and her sleeves,  
And her hair like shadow following.  
  
Enchantment healed his weary feet  
That over hills were doomed to roam;  
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,  
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.  
Through woven woods in Elvenhome   
She lightly fled on dancing feet,  
And left him lonely still to roam  
In the silent forest listening.  
  
He heard there oft the flying sound  
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,  
Or music welling underground,  
In hidden hollows quavering.  
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,  
And one by one with sighing sound   
Whispering fell the beechen leaves  
In the winter woodland wavering.  
  
He sought her ever, wandering far  
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,  
By light of moon and ray of star  
In frosty heavens shivering.  
Her mantel glinted in the moon,  
As on a hilltop high and far   
She danced, and at her feet were strewn   
A mist of silver quivering.  
  
When winter passed, she came again,  
And her song released the sudden spring,  
Like rising lark, and falling rain,  
And melting water bubbling.  
He saw the elven-flowers spring  
About her feet, and healed again  
He longed by her to dance and sing  
Upon the grass untroubling.  
  
Again she fled, but swift he came.  
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!  
He called her by her elvish name;  
And there she halted listening.  
One moment stood she, and a spell  
His voice laid upon her: Beren came,  
And doom fell on Tinúviel  
That in his arms lay glistening.  
  
As Beren looked into her eyes  
Within the shadows of her hair,  
The trembling starlight of the skies  
He saw there mirrored shimmering.  
Tinúviel the elven-fair,  
Immortal maiden elven-wise,  
About him cast her shadowy hair  
And arms like silver glimmering.  
  
Long was the way that fate them bore,  
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,  
Through halls of iron and darkling door,  
And woods of nightshade morrowless.  
The Sundering Seas between them lay,  
And yet at last they met once more,  
And long ago they passed away  
In the forest singing sorrowless.  
  
The singing stopped and Estela opened her eyes, straining to hear what was said.  
  
There was a sigh and then a pause before Aragorn's voice could be heard. "That is a song," he said, "in the mode that is called ann-thennath among the Elves, but it is hard to render in our Common Speech, and this is but a rough echo of it. It tells of the meeting of Beren son of Barahir and Lúthien Tinúviel. Beren was a mortal man, but Lúthien was the daughter of Thingol, a King of Elves upon Middle-Earth when the world was young; and she was the fairest maiden that was ever among all the children of this world. As the stars above the mists of the Northern lands was her loveliness, and in her face was a shining light. In those days the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant, dwelt in Angband in the North, and the Elves of the West coming back to Middle-Earth made war upon him to regain the Silmarils which he had stolen; and the fathers of Men aided the Elves. But the Enemy was victorious and Barahir was slain, and Beren, escaping through great peril, came over the Mountains of Terror into the hidden kingdom of Thingol in the forest of Neldoreth. There he beheld Lúthien singing and dancing in a glade beside the enchanted river Esgalduin; and he named her Tinúviel, that is Nightingale in the language of old...   
  
Aragorn continued telling about Lúthien and Beren while the hobbits, sitting around the fire with eager faces, and Estela, sitting on the rock near the spring , listened.   
  
The story soon ended and all was silent for a moment before Estela heard Frodo's alarmed voice, "Did you *see* anything?"  
  
"No, sir," replied Sam's voice. "I saw nothing, but I didn't stop to look."  
  
"I saw something," said Merry; "or thought I did--away westward where the moonlight was falling on the flats beyond the shadows of the hilltops, I *thought* there were two or three black shapes. They seemed to be moving this way."  
  
Immediately Estela was off the rock and running wildly toward the small camp that they had made.  
  
"Keep close to the fire, with your faces outward!" cried Aragorn. "Get some of the longer sticks ready in your hands!"  
  
Estela stopped, ten yards away from the camp, and looked at the ground for a long stick. She found a thick one and was about to run back to the camp but she stood there, not moving an inch as if rooted to the ground.  
  
The terrifying silence settled around her allowing her to hear the heavy *thud* of her quick beating heart in her chest. Her breathing, quick and heavy, seemed hardly to fill her lungs, suffocating her.  
  
"What's that?" gasped Pippin suddenly, making her jump.  
  
'Yes, what is that? Perhaps I would know if I was there...' she thought guiltily, but made no move. 'I can't move...I'm not going to go...no. I can't.'  
  
There was silence again for a few moments then the sound of two light bodies hitting the ground sounded and soon Frodo's crying, "O Elbereth! Githoniel!" At the same time a shrill cry erupted, ripping through the silence of Weathertop.  
  
"Oh, no...the Black Riders," moaned Estela. The stick fell from her hand and she sank to her knees on the ground, covering her ears. She hadn't felt fear like this since... "Oh, no, no, no...please go away!" She squeezed her eyes shut and screaming a scream that rivaled even that of the Nazgûl until she couldn't breathe anymore.  
  
She scrambled to her feet desperately and looked once more at the camp where Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, Frodo, and Sam were then took off running in a random direction.   
  
Soon she heard another shrill scream and then the thudding of hooves close behind her.   
  
"Oh, please no..."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Well, here you go. I like reviews, if you haven't already noticed : ) Thanks for reading, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	10. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
  
"Leave me alone!" screamed Estela, looking over her shoulder and catching a quick glimpse of blood-red eyes under a black hood.  
  
Her eyes were off the path in front of her so she wasn't able to see the large rock jutting out of the middle of the ground.   
  
She tripped and landed hard on her right side just as the Black Rider rushed pass, screaming in rage. A hot searing pain ripped through her right leg and coursed through her side. Another Rider passed.  
  
Estela rolled over on her back and watched them circle back around and stand on her left and right side. They looked down at her, expectantly, their horses switching their tails impatiently.  
  
"I..."  
  
The one on her left moved his hand. A long sword glinted in the moonlight and he raised it high above his head, ready to strike.  
  
"No! I don't have your stupid ring! Get away!"  
  
The Rider paused then lowered his sword, almost confused. Estela used this to her advantage and scrambled to her feet. She backed slowly away from the Riders as they watched her then they turned and rode away.   
  
Estela didn't wait around to think of why they left and started to run again on her original course, but after a few steps her left leg gave way and she fell again. She positioned her leg so she could see the side of it a choked back a cry when she saw that there was a long red line on the side of her left calf.  
  
She gently touched the cut with two fingers then yanked them back as the pain she had felt earlier erupted through her body.  
  
She bit her lower lip to keep from screaming until it bled.   
  
'He cut me!' she thought.  
  
She experimentally moved her leg, immediately regretting it.   
  
Screaming, gripped her leg tightly. The Riders wouldn't come, for her for she didn't carry their ring, Aragorn and the hobbits were probably...she shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the thought. No one would come to kill her. No one would be bothered if she screamed her head off because her leg felt like it was being decapitated.  
  
But then again...what if there were other things besides Riders and hobbits?  
  
Estela took a deep breath and looked at the long bleeding gash in her leg against the pale light of the moon.  
  
After a few moments she tried her best to get up and walk, but fell down again.   
  
She sighed, looking to her left, and spotted a large thick stick laying beside her that was forked at one end. She grabbed it and felt the forked end. "To hard," she murmured. "I could not walk very far with it."  
  
She looked down at the now ruined jeans. Carefully she placed both hands on the rip and pulled. It tore a little more then just stopped. She pulled it a little harder, fully aware of the pain. Her brow furrowed and she yanked the ends apart. There was a loud *rip* and the jeans tore around the leg leaving one leg shorter than the other.   
  
Sighing, she wrapped the material around the forked end, creating a little padding for her arm. She looked at her leg again. "This won't do," she muttered. With nothing covering the wound there was no telling what kind of infection she might get and she had to apply pressure to it to stop the bleeding.  
  
She looked from her leg to the red short-sleeved T-shirt that she wore than back at the jeans. Sighing again, she took her shirt off and made a few measurements. "Here," she said moving her hand to a section of the shirt, "will make it a belly shirt, but any lower won't give me enough protection." She shook her head and then, using the same jagged rock that had gotten uprooted and tossed to the side that she had tripped over earlier, she made a hole in the shirt.   
  
Using the new hole as a starter, she ripped the shirt until she had a long strip of cloth. She wrapped the cloth around her leg and tied it tightly, and put her shirt back on. Not at all pleased with her new look, she took the forked stick and used it to help herself up. Once on her feet, she positioned the stick under her left arm and started to hobble away.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
It had been a week since Estela had seen Aragorn or the hobbits and it was a wonder she was still alive.   
  
The days were long and hard, the nights, cold and frightening, but still she trudged on, the ever pressing need to find Rivendell pushing her onward.   
  
The first two days after escaping Weathertop she had found a spring and some berries that resembled blackberries. Two days after that she found some nuts and a small creek bed with muddy water scattered in little puddles. It was horribly gross, but it was either die or live. It was not a hard decision.  
  
She used the remains of her shirt to bring nuts along with her and found a spring the next day. It wasn't clear like the first, but it wasn't muddy either.   
  
So for two days she had been without water and twenty nuts as nourishment.  
  
Her leg felt like it was slowly being torn off every passing day and on that particular day she fell on the ground sometime near two-o'clock and couldn't get up again.  
  
She lay on her back, "crutch" in hand, moaning.  
  
Soon she heard a loud munching noise coming from right above her head. "What in the world..." she whispered bending her head so she could see.   
  
A white horse was munching the green grass, and looked up to stare at her. It walked slowly toward her beaten form and sniffed her, thoughtfully.  
  
"Uh...hi?"   
  
The horse pulled back and hesitated for a moment then walked to the side of her. It sniffed her wounded leg then gently nudge her arm. It nickered softly and nudged her arm again.  
  
Estela cautiously lifted a hand up and rubbed the horse's muzzle. The horse nudged her palm and whinnied. Estela smiled and rubbed her nails back and forth over its muzzle, scratching it. The horse breathed deeply, creating a vacuum-like suction to her palm. It nickered again then stood up straight, staring down at her expectantly.   
  
Estela groaned and tried to sit up. She made it halfway and was about to fall back down when something hard and strong pushed against her back, helping her up the rest of the way.   
  
Now sitting up, she saw that the horse had helped her and was now pacing back and forth on the side of her, never letting its eyes move from the young woman. It whinnied impatiently and nudged the crutch with its nose.   
  
Estela sighed and took the stick in her hand. She miraculously managed to get to a standing position by using the stick to push herself up.  
  
The horse neighed and pranced around, almost gaily. It stopped and moved its left side toward her as if wanting her to ride.  
  
"Oh, no, no, no, no," said Estela shaking a hand. "I can't ride."  
  
The horse neighed, either in protest or in confusion.  
  
"I'm serious! Look at me! How am I even supposed to get on your back? You don't have a saddle, a bridle, nothing! Besides," she added, mumbling, "I can't ride..."  
  
The horse made a sound that resembled laughter and pranced around a little more, its long white mane dancing on the side if its neck. It stopped again in the same position as before, impatiently waiting for her to get on.  
  
"I can't! I'm--oh, look at this! I'm talking to a horse. I'm going to grow up in the woods and become some crazy Wild Man Bob!" she cried.   
  
The horse snorted and looked down at a large rock on the ground beside it.  
  
"Oh. You won't me to use the rock as a stepstool?"  
  
The horse snorted again and looked up at the trees as if he didn't quite understand her.  
  
Estela sighed and, placing her hands on the horse's back, carefully put her good foot on the rock and pushed herself up on it.   
  
The horse nickered softly, watching her out of the corner of its eye.  
  
As fast as her body would allow her, she swung her bad leg over the side of the horse, grunting in pain, and adjusted herself so that she was sitting securely on the horse's back.  
  
The horse, a stallion Estela had realized when she had been getting on it, neighed and tossed its head.  
"Do you have a name?"  
The horse stamped his foot.  
"Right...how about Snowy? Because you're all white... No? Okay, how about Curtis? Nah, that reminds me of cheese. How about...Alassé?"  
  
The horse looked at her, its black eyes staring at her inquisitively.  
  
"That's a yes for me. So, um, can you walk?"  
Alassé lowered his neck to munch some grass, ignoring her.   
"O-okay...how about giddy up? Yah? Hi-yah? Are lle going a' move?"   
Alassé stopped his eating abruptly and started walking.  
  
Estela stared at the horse, dumbfounded. The horse, a stupid beast not capable of understanding little more than "food" and riding commands, knew what she had said.   
  
'Well, Middle-Earth just happens to be a very peculiar place,' she thought, shaking her head.  
  
"Take amin a' Rivendell," commanded Estela. Alassé sped up, Estela grasping tightly to his snow-white mane.  
  
For the first time since she had heard Aragorn's song a hope that she had carried with her since as far back as she could remember, not counting the five years after her parents had died, returned and made her smile.  
  
"Rivendell," she whispered. "Elrond."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Alassé had found a spring and some more berries later that day which Estela had eaten eagerly, then for six days they had seen nothing but another spring and trees.  
  
"Are you bored?" asked Estela. Alassé just grunted and trudged on.  
  
"When will we get there?"  
The horse whinnied and sped up a little.  
Estela sighed and closed her eyes.   
  
  
It was after noon and evening was drawing near, but still Alassé ran. Estela could tell that he was getting tired, but even when she commanded that they stop he kept on going, leaving her no choice but to sit and wait.  
  
She rolled her eyes as the horse refused to stop again and began humming to herself. She didn't know what song it was, which irritated her greatly, and tried a few times unsuccessfully to add the words.   
  
Alassé had one ear back, listening. He seemed to like the singing which embarrassed her slightly, but also made her hum with more gusto.   
  
A shrill faraway scream, from in the back of her mind or somewhere behind her she didn't know, made her and Alassé stop in their tracks. Her humming had ceased and thy were now listening, their breaths held.   
  
The scream sounded again and Alassé took off at a speed that Estela had never dreamed possible, almost making her fall off.   
  
The scream came again, this time closer, chilling her bones and making her shiver.  
  
Alassé was breathing heavily, his nostrils flared, allowing more air to fill his lungs. He was running hard, Estela clinging onto his neck, and her legs pressed tightly to his sides.   
  
"It's one of them," whimpered Estela. "Go faster, Alassé, go faster."  
  
The Rider, though they couldn't see him, seemed right beside them. She listened carefully, and heard, through the loud rushing of wind, what sounded like ten pairs of hooves, thudding hard against the ground.  
  
'Ten?'  
  
There was another scream, making her forget about the hoof-beets.  
  
"Noro, noro, Alassé!" she screamed. "Noro lim, noro lim!"  
  
That was all the horse needed. Running as fast as the wind it seemed, feet barely touching the ground, he ran.   
  
Estela, because she had her eyes shut, didn't see the water but felt it as crashed up around her legs, stinging her wounded leg, because of Alassé's heavy steps landing in the water.   
  
There were cries somewhere and screaming, but it faded away. For the first time, but certainly not the last on this journey, Estela fainted.  
  
"Elrond...Aragorn...Dad? Please, help me..." she whispered before her head slumped against Alassé's neck and everything faded into a world of darkness.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Rivendell is in the next chapter!! Yeah!!! Finally! I hope you liked this chapter. Allasé means joy by the way.  
Thanks for the reviews, Lúthien. 


	11. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine  
  
"Who is she?"  
"I do not know."  
"Should we take her to Lord Elrond?"  
"No. Moving her any more would be unwise, for look! The wound has opened again. Besides, Lord Elrond already has a patient of greater importance than this girl. Of what land this patient is from and what business she was on, I know not, but we must do as much as we can ourselves to heal her."  
  
'What in the world is that?' thought Estela. She was slowly coming about, though not yet fully awake. There were two lowered voices, speaking in a strange language that she, for some reason, knew, talking on either side of her.  
  
"And what about Alassé?" asked one of them. "How did she find him and why did he allow her to ride him?"  
"Of that I know naught, and it surprised me greatly to see a woman galloping through the gates of Rivendell in such haste as much as it did you," answered the other. "But come now! The time has arrived to wake her. I do not want her thrashing about while I wrap the wound up."  
  
Estela's stomach did a flip-flop and she moved slightly in her desperation to wake fully.   
  
"Halendir...do you suppose that..."  
"What?"  
"Do you suppose that she is the Warrior? The one who was lost in thin air?"  
The voice of Halendir hesitated for a moment before answering, "Do you still believe in those childish stories?"  
"Yes. No! I mean...well...something just made me think of it...seeing her, I mean. It reminded me of the stories..."  
"She disappeared, Falenwé," sighed Halendir. "That is all. She vanished before the eyes of many Elves and Men, never to return. Though they are just forgotten tales, brother! Do not fret about such foolish things. They are just forgotten tales."   
  
"I do not know who your are or what you're doing in my room, but I'll give you ten seconds to get out!" Estela's commanding scream startled the two voices, one of them crying out in alarm, and the sound of large objects falling on top of each other on the floor.  
  
Estela who was now sitting upright, her eyes opened wide in fear. She saw two men, one lying on top of the other, in a heap on the floor.  
  
"Falenwé, you overweight Elf!" yelled a muffled voice. "Get off! Get OFF!"  
  
One of the men scrambled off the other and quickly stood up. "Well how was I supposed to know she would just wake up screaming? How odd. Do you find that odd?"  
  
"Falenwé, you are so absolutely dimwitted sometimes. The girl is frightened! You would be too if you woke up in a strange place with your leg opened up."  
"I do not get frightened."  
"I seem to remember that you were the one that knocked us both to the floor in your great haste to escape the screaming woman!"  
  
The two would have continued bickering, completely depriving their guest of any attention if it had not spoken. "Hey," said Estela. "Hey, guys. Hey, guys! Yo! GUYS!"  
  
The men stopped their fighting for a moment and stared at her shocked.   
  
"Thanks. Hey, would you mind explaining to me a few things?"  
  
"Well I---"  
  
"Good. One: Where's my horse? Two: What am I doing here? Three: What happened to the Black Riders. And Four: Who *are* you?"  
  
"I am Halendir," said one. "And this is my brother, Falenwé."  
  
Halendir had dark blue eyes that watched her kindly, and stood at about 6'6". He was wearing a white tunic with a brown belt around his waist, dark green leggings and long brown boots. His hair, a dark brown coulor that was surprisingly long for a male, hung loosely behind him, two small braids keeping it out of his face. But the most shocking thing of all about this stranger was his pointed ears.   
  
His brother, Falenwé, had they same long dark brown hair, grey eyes, pointed ears, and stood at about 6'4". He was wearing a light blue tunic, a silver belt around his waist, white leggings and boots like his brother, though lighter in colour.  
  
"That answers one question," whispered Estela, still trying to get over the ears  
  
"Alassé, the horse that brought you here, is our horse," said Halendir. "Falenwé rode him out one day and the beast suddenly went mad!"   
  
"I have never seen anything like it," said Falenwé, shaking his head. "He wouldn't let me get ride any further and he refused to go back, so I had to get off and leave him there. He must have known something that I did not, though I cannot imagine what."  
  
"For another of your questions, milady, you were brought here by Alassé. He was going at a speed I've never seen him go before, almost trampling over a few people on his way in. He stopped right outside our door with you almost falling off. You were unconscious so we brought you here and laid you in bed. You have been asleep since then. It is now mid noon of the next day."  
  
"And about the Nine Riders," said Halendir, lowering his voice to a whisper, his face grave, "we know naught about." He paused, watching her with great interest. "And you, milady, who are *you*? I see that you use the Common Tongue rather than Sindarin. Why is that, milady?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"You are an Elf, milady, why aren't you using our tongue?"  
"I'm an Elf?"  
Halendir nodded. "Yes, milady."  
"I'm an Elf."  
"Yes..."  
"I'm and Elf?!"  
"Eh...yes..."  
"And I suppose all Elves have pointy ears, long hair, and dress really bizarre, right?"  
Falenwé looked down at his clothes and lightly touched his hair and ears, a puzzled and slightly distressed expression on his face.  
  
"I..."  
  
"Amin am n'ma Edhel," Estela muttered to herself, not seeing the smiles that bloomed on the men's faces. "Quessir are elle gwaith tanya work e' Santa's Workshop."  
  
"Pardon me, milady, but Elves do not work in a workshop owned by this 'Santa' that you speak of," said Halendir, frowning.   
  
"Nor do we 'dress bizarre'. If anyone dresses bizarre, milady, it is you," snorted Falenwé. Halendir nudged him in the ribs and the younger Elf quickly quieted.  
  
Estela looked down at her shirt quickly. In place of her torn and tattered red shirt there was a pale yellow long-sleeved silk shirt. She moved a portion of the sheet that was covering her off and saw that her jeans were gone as well, and that the shirt was actually a gown that went down to her ankles. Her undergarments were, much to her relief, still on, making her anger toward the Elves lessen a little.  
  
"Where are my clothes?" she demanded.  
  
"They were dirtied and torn beyond repair," said Halendir. "We are terribly sorry if this offends you, milady, but we had to."  
  
"Yeah, well, you may be able to 'help' elven woman like this, but I'm no Elf, and I demand a little respect!"  
  
"Perhaps," said Halendir shaking his head, "you have hit your head? Or maybe you have amnesia? What is your name?"  
"Estela," replied Estela, eyeing him suspiciously.   
Falenwé and Halendir stared at her for a moment before smiles spread across each of their faces. "Very good," said Halendir. "Now if you will excuse my brother and I, we will fetch the supplies."  
With that, Halendir and his brother left the room, closing the door quietly behind them.   
  
Estela sighed and, sitting up, traced her hand on the white silky sheet. The comforter of the bed, a maroon coloured blanket, lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed. The many pillows behind her head were filled with soft down and the cases were white, maroon, and a beautiful silver colour with the same softness of the sheets.  
  
The bed itself was a cherry colour with a large headboard that had two lines of six trees, a river running in-between them, and stars and the moon carved into it, two bedposts at the foot, and the mattress was filled with down like the pillows.   
  
She looked up and saw that the room was furnished with a light brown bureau sitting in a corner, a large chair with the same cherry coloured wood sitting beside one of the two windows that were in the room, a side table by the bed, and a large full-length mirror.  
  
It was soon that the Elves returned, Halendir carrying a tray laden with numerous odds and ends which he set at the foot of the bed.  
  
"We are going to cleanse the wound then wrap it up," said Halendir.   
"Don't I need stitches? I was cut pretty deep."  
"The wrap will keep it together long enough for it to heal."  
"How long will that be?"  
"Three or five days. Maybe seven." He gently pushed the gown above her wound and Falenwé handed him a damped cloth which he used to wipe away the dirt, mud, and other things on, in, and near the cut. Once it was cleaned he took a long brown strip of cloth and wrapped it tightly around the wound then tied it.   
  
"There!" he said, once finished. "We will leave now so you may recover your strength in peace."  
  
Estela leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. The soft click of the door closing told her that they had left and that she could finally get back to sleep. It had seemed like ages since she had last had a soft bed to sleep in and warm covers.  
  
Her thoughts suddenly went to Aragorn and the hobbits. What had happened to them? Could they have been killed?   
  
Estela shook her head, realizing the horrible truth. They were dead. She was the only one who had made it to Rivendell. She cringed, realizing *why* she had been the only one.  
  
'Coward! Fool! You selfish excuse for a living being! How could you? How could you desert them? Dieing would have at *least* been honorable! But instead you ran. You ran. Coward. Traitor.'  
  
With that last thought haunting her mind, she slipped slowly into the place just on the edge of sleep.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
It was two days later and Estela was out of bed and walking around Rivendell.   
  
Rivendell was more beautiful than any other place or fantasy she had seen or dreamed of. Gardens and brooks, many different trees, all beautiful, birds and animals of many kinds, and Elves.   
  
Elves were wondrous people. Always joyful, and kind, their eyes always bright and intelligent. Their movements were graceful and enchanting, silent and beautiful, making Estela feel ashamed of her own movements which now seemed clumsy and loud.  
  
Some of the Elves were merry and like children more than ancient beings, and some were mighty and commanding, often leaving Estela amazed and speechless to look upon them.  
  
There was so much about the Elves and Rivendell that enthralled and mystified her that she often said there was no way to describe the fair land, you would have to see it for yourself.  
  
  
Estela was sitting on a marbleized bench eating an apple and discussing a private council to be held the following day by Lord Elrond with a female Elf somewhere in her one thousand five hundreds named Deulain.   
  
"And where, exactly, is this council supposed to be held?" asked Estela, taking a bite out of the juicy fruit in her hand.   
"I'm not sure exactly," said Deulain, "but I think it is over there." She pointed toward a spot to the left of them near a large house that Halendir had identified as the Last Homely House and smiled. "Why? Do you wish to go?" Her smile faded when Estela took another bite of her apple, staring thoughtfully at the spot where the council was to be held.  
  
"Yes," said Estela softly. "I haven't been able to talk to Lord Elrond since my time here, and I desperately need to."  
  
"Oh, but you mustn't!" cried Deualain. The Elf happened to be a very big worrywart, often hindering the mischievous pranks that Estela tried pull on unsuspecting Elves. Most of her victims happened to be males. She would take their pants that had been hanging out to dry (always bringing them back a few hours later), putting rocks, needles from trees, and dirt into their boots, and other countless little things. She realized that they weren't exactly *nice* to do, but one, even though it was Rivendell, could get very bored just sitting around and talking.  
  
"Do you know the kind of trouble you could into?" hissed Deulain.  
"I have to see Elrond," replied Estela firmly.  
Deulain sighed, knowing that she would never be able to talk her friend out of this foolish act. "Fine, but do not say I did not warn you. It is your own head, not mine."  
Estela smiled at her friend then sighed, looking wistfully out at Rivendell. "Tomorrow I'll learn how to get home."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I'm so sorry! You can't believe how sorry I am! It has been a crazy week at my home. We had my sisters' birthdays at---GASP! CHUCK E. CHEESES! And guess what? IT WAS ON A SATURDAY! Now tell me, has anyone currently reading this story been to Chuck E. Cheeses on a Saturday? No one? I didn't think so. Because---GASP! YOUR NOT SUPPOSED TO GOT TO THE FRIGGIN' PIZZA EATING RODENT'S DEN ON A SATURDAY! Why? Take a wild guess. Take the flying leap to Thinking Land.   
  
Oh, I also got a few new games for my PS2 so--please don't kill me--I've been playing them more than I have been writing... I've kinda, little bit, not-sure-how-to-explain-it been grounded, too. Been cleaning a LOT lately, too, and, um...I got hurt? What? Not good enough excuses for making you wait four extra days, you say? Sorry...   
  
The chapter is very short, boring, lacking plot and...Elrond... BWAHAHAHAHAHA! I said *Rivendell* was in the next chapter! Not Elrond! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH--- What? You're going to kill me? Oops...   
  
Please review if you still like me, Lúthien Arnatuilë.  
  
P.S. I PROMISE that the next chapter will be up on time. 


	12. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten  
  
Estela was sitting behind three tall shrubs at the alleged spot where the council was to be held, clearly aware of the fact that, if caught, there would be a great many angry Elves to encounter. Her eyes were wide in excitement and her breathing was rapid and deep. The danger of her situation was exhilarating, and at the moment she was wondering how anybody could hate the feeling of sneaking around and possibly getting caught.   
  
A few Men, Elves, and short people with beards filed out of the House and sat down in a few stone chair-like objects that were arranged in a circle around a pedestal. The largest chair that looked somewhat like a throne was directly in front of her, its back facing her, so she wasn't able to see who was sitting in it.  
  
Estela watched while a blonde-haired Elf clad in green and brown made his way to his seat. His face, stern with a trace of worry, was turned toward a man, tall, proud, and stern with a fair face, dark-haired and grey-eyed, that sat down a few seats away from the him.   
  
The man, though his garments were rich they were stained, was wearing boots and a fur-lined cloak. He had a collar of silver in which a single white stone was set, his locks were shorn about his shoulders. On a baldric he wore a great horn tipped with silver that now was laid upon his knees.   
  
Turning her head, Estela noticed another tall figure, clad in a familiar weather-stained cloak and traveling outfit, and realized that it was Aragorn. It was all she could do not to cry out in surprise, instead biting the inside of her mouth. A smile spread across her face and she waited patiently for something to happen.   
  
Once everyone present had been seated there rang once a single clear bell.  
  
Soon a few more Men and Elves came out onto the porch, followed by a tall elderly man that had a tall pointed hat on his head, big bushy eyebrows over wise grey eyes peering out from underneath it. After the tall man there came two smaller, child-like men, one of whom she didn't recognize, the other had his head turned away from her. Only when he had near her did she realize that it was Frodo, alive and well just as she had seen him back at Weathertop. He sat down near the throne-like chair, his back facing her.   
  
Joy filled her heart, though she was still painfully aware that she had run in blind panic and fear and left them to save her own life, though almost getting herself killed in the process.  
  
Suddenly a voice, commanding, clear, and melodious, came from the chair and spoke: "Here, my friends," it said, and she realized that it had to of been the Lord Elrond, "is the hobbit, Frodo son of Drogo. Few have ever come hither through greater peril or on an errand more urgent." He stopped and she soon realized that he was pointing at a few of the people partaking in the meeting.  
  
Estela moved over as much as she could and craned her neck as much as she dared, but all she saw was a hand pointing toward a person with a beard sitting next to another bearded-man that she now realized was a Dwarf, a small person that Halendir talked about sometimes with a hint of disdain in his voice. "That is Gimli son of Glóin," said the voice. The hand moved to a few other Elves name Erestor and Galdor then to the blonde-haired Elf. "That is Legolas Greenleaf, a messenger from his father, Thranduil, the King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood." The hand moved toward the man with the horn. "Here is Boromir, a man from the South. He arrived in the grey morning, and seeks for council. I have bidden him to be present, for here his questions will be answered."  
  
  
  
Much was debated and discussed at the council and only then did Estela realize that this was no ordinary meeting.   
  
She was laying on her back, bored out of her mind because the thrill of getting discovered had disappeared, only half-listening to what was said, and fingering the maroon tunic that Falenwé had lent her (after she had firmly refused the pale yellow dress that they offered first) along with a brown pair of legging and silver-coloured boots. She had left her hair, which now had grown down to the small of her back, loose, and it was now laying comfortably under her head, forming a small pillow.  
  
"Now, therefore," said Elrond, brining her back to the council, "things shall be openly spoken that have been hidden from all but a few until this day. And first, so that all may understand what is the peril, the Tale of the Ring shall be told from the beginning even to this present. And I will begin that tale, though others shall end it."  
  
  
  
Then all was quiet and Elrond started speaking of the Dark Lord Sauron and his Ring.  
  
The tale seemed strangely familiar to Estela, and frustration built up inside her as she tried to remember why. She closed her eyes and concentrated.   
  
'Dark Lord. Dark Lord. Darth Vader...? A Dark Lord named Sauron? Where did he get a name like that? Though, all the other people here have bizarre names, too. None of the Elves can be a Mathew, no, they have to be a Flangerdingerbob or Marlowinaerta! WHO THE HECK IS SAURON?!'  
  
Without warning, she was cast out of Middle-Earth and into herself.   
  
A little figure, herself she realized, was walking down the only lit path.  
  
  
In the deep recesses of her mind, there lay a dark corner of memory, locked and never opened before. A key to a past she never knew, never wanted to know, was going to be revealed to her. Not all, only a part. Then, over time, she would know. Who she was.   
  
She was there...walking the dark halls of memory. Pain was there, but also joy, happiness...and hope. She wasn't alone. Four dark figures walked; two in back, urging her forward, and two on either side, helping her. A deep feeling of love surrounded her and she wondered where these strangers had come from.  
  
They stopped soon. In front of a large door with two long, large chains hanging across it, each going diagonally, overlapping each other, and four great locks on the front, Estela and the four people stood. Estela stared in amazement while the Four stepped back, disappearing into the shadows behind them. "Open it..." they whispered.   
  
"I can't," she replied simply. Her voice sounded a little different. Older. Wiser. "It's locked. And I have no key with me."  
  
"The star...the key."  
  
Estela saw herself look down at the four-pointed star that hung on her neck then slowly undo the clasp and walk to the door. Holding the smallest of the four locks, she inserted the star into the keyhole and twisted. The lock fell off with a loud clang, rumbling the halls.  
  
"Open it."  
  
She tugged on the handle using both hands and it opened a small crack, allowing a bright white light to seep through.  
  
  
Immediately, the room halls vanished and a small fire with three men sitting around it on logs appeared. The three people were Elves by the looks of it.  
  
"Oh, look," said one disgusted, "more lembas. I tell you, they are wonderful to eat for the first three weeks, but after that..."  
"Are you complaining, Lenaro?" teased another voice, its owner out of Estela's sight.  
"Of course not!"   
"Liar," one of the others muttered under his breath. They laughed and the scene switched to another place.   
  
There was an Elf standing under a large tree, holding the hands of some else that Estela could not see.  
  
"I won't allow you to come with me into battle," said the Elf firmly. "You would die."  
"...he is like a father to me, Silen," replied the unseen person. "I must go... ...to ensure his safety."  
  
The scene changed again.  
  
Wise grey eyes filled with pain flashed before her vision. They fell, and Estela was able to see more. They belonged to an Elf, dressed in armor, that she did not recognize and had but a moment to see what he looked like.  
  
The Elf's knees buckled, making him fall. Before he hit the ground, though, another Elf clad in the same armor wrapped his arms around the other's bleeding stomach and held him up.  
  
"Come..." said the assisting Elf, "we must get you away from here."  
The wounded Elf made no objection, staring amazed at his companion.  
  
  
The visions disappeared, as did the halls of her mind, leaving her once again behind the bushes, eavesdropping.  
  
Her energy seemed sapped, and the sudden waves of exhaustion surprised her.   
  
Throwing the visions to the back of her mind, she sat up, trying her best to ignore the sudden weakness of her body, and peered through the bushes again, wondering if the council was over.  
  
The thorns in the bushes created a small problem, but she silently pushed them away. The upper half of her body was now in the bushes, the thorns digging into her arms, hands, and clothing.  
  
All was silent. The noon-bell rang, but still no one spoke.  
  
From what she had gathered, the Ring, if wielded by the Dark Lord, was powerful enough to destroy all of Middle-Earth. It was doom to them all and casting it into Mount Doom in Mordor was the only way to gain freedom.   
  
The Ring could corrupt its bearer, using the being for its own evil purposes.  
  
Perhaps they were debating who would take it?  
  
"I will take the Ring," said Frodo suddenly, "though I do not know the way."  
  
Fear gripped Estela. She would not allow her friend to walk into death, if even he was allowed by the council. She would go, she decided firmly. No one, not even the Lord Elrond, would stop her. She abandoned Frodo once before...she was not going to do it again.  
  
"If I have understood alright all that I have heard," said Elrond, "I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great. Who of all the Wise could have foreseen it? Or, if they are wise, why should they expect to know it, until the hour has struck?  
  
"But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none could lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, I will that your choice is right; and though all the might elf-friends of old, Hador, and Húrin, and Túrin, and Beren himself were assembled together, your seat should be among them."  
  
Estela decided that it was about time to go, seeing as the council was coming to an end. She freed her scratched and bloody limbs and started working on getting her tunic loose from them.  
  
"But you won't send him off alone surely, Master?" cried Sam who had jumped up from the spot she had seen him sitting quietly in earlier, startling the council members. Frodo gave him and amused smile and rolled his eyes.  
  
"No indeed!" said Elrond. "You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."  
  
Sam blushed and sat back down on the ground. "Nice pickle we have landed our---"   
  
RIIIIIIIIIIIP!  
  
Estela, who had thought her clothes were all loose, had quickly tried to scurry away while Sam had been loudly distracting the council members, only to find that plants did not like her. One thorn that she had missed had gone deep into her tunic, tearing it when she tried to get away. The taught branch on the evil shrub chose that time, when she had a tiny chance of not being discovered, to break, sending a loud snap ringing across the porch.  
  
"What is that?" asked many voices. All heads turned toward the bushes, including Elrond who leaned over the side of his chair and stared, most likely wondering if had any more hobbits hiding around.  
  
Though this was a terrible time, Estela seemed to notice that he had dark hair, and wise grey eyes much like the ones in her mind. He seemed neither young nor old, though Estela guessed he was somewhere in his three thousands.  
  
"Who is there?" he asked.  
  
"Crud."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I really dislike ff.net right now. You guys *would* have had this chapter Friday but noooooo. Oh, look! Tee hee! I Cliff-hanger! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Elrond was in this chapter...oh, EXCUSE me! His CHAIR was in this chapter! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *cough* Excuse me... So...ya like? All you have to do is review... Until next time, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	13. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven   
  
Estela slapped a hand over her mouth. Though she had said the word so soft that it was almost inaudible, she knew that Elrond, if not all the Elves (thanks to their enhanced hearing), had heard her. She had now sealed her soon-to-come fate. 'I'm going to get it so bad...'  
  
"Crud?" said Elrond, screwing up his face and making himself look quite comical. "Well, come forth, Crud. Show yourself and tell us why you are here."  
  
If Estela hadn't been scared out of her mind she would have laughed to see such a high Elf calling her crud and say it with such a serious expression.  
  
"Well?" prompted Elrond.  
  
Knowing nothing else would help her escape she slowly stood up and stepped out of the bushes and in front of the counsel. Trying not to blush or make a fool of herself she calmly met the stares of each of them. Noticing the shocked look of Frodo and the covered up surprise on Aragorn's face she couldn't help but snicker.  
  
"I should have known it was a woman," Boromir muttered.  
  
"Would you please explain what you were doing?" said Elrond. It seemed more like a command than a question.  
"I was hoping to talk to you, milord," she replied. "I believe that you are the only one that can help me."  
  
Elrond was quiet for a moment before he responded. "There are punishments for what you have done," he said.  
"I am willing to face them if they will come, milord," she responded grimly.  
"I see."  
  
The counsel and its members were suddenly gone, replaced with a small room. Two people were standing in it. A male that appeared to be Silen, and the other person had his back facing Estela's vision.  
  
"You must not come with me!" cried Silen desperately. "You will be punished for disobeying your Lord!"  
"I do not care, Silen," said the other softly. He took a sword and its sheath off a table and armed herself with it, followed by a bow, and a small dagger. "I must protect him."  
"I think the Lord Elrond is fully capable of protecting himself! Please reconsider! You will die if you go!"  
"You speak ill words, Silen. I am hurt at your lack of confidence in me. After all, *you* are going. You may die as well as I. But *he* must live. He is my father, Silen."  
"No, he is not."  
  
The other stood silently for a moment before he walked to the only door and opened it. "Silen," said the other before leaving, "I know I am disobeying. I know that his strict orders were to be followed. But..."  
"But what?"  
"I have a feeling...it gives me great pain and desire. Desire to follow him."  
"You will die!" yelled Silen. He turned his back on the other, the beginning of tears in his eyes.  
"I do not care," said the other softly.  
The vision vanished and Estela was now standing in back at the counsel.  
  
"Milady?" asked Elrond. He was standing in front of her, a concerned look on his face.  
"Elrond...? Silen...? Élestor? Lenaro?" whispered Estela. "But...you're all...didn't you...?" The weak feeling in her body was back, only this time it was stronger.  
"Milady, are you alright?"  
"Too late...too late." Estela looked around her in disbelief. "He disobeyed...and they..."  
'It hurts so badly...' she thought. 'But...what is it?'  
  
The face of Lord Elrond drew back and the feeling of falling was once again felt.   
"Estela!" cried Aragorn.   
  
'Élestor? No...impossible...?'   
  
Strong hands grabbed her, preventing the fall onto the stone ground. "Estela," said Aragorn again. "Are you alright? Estela? Estela! What is wrong?"  
"Oh, Valar," whispered Elrond. "It is her."  
  
That was the last thing Estela heard.  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
Aragorn was sitting in a chair positioned next to the bed in one of the guest bedrooms. Estela was laying on the bed, her eyes open and blank. She appeared to be asleep.  
  
'How did she get to Rivendell?' thought Aragorn, staring at the still young woman. 'More importantly, how did she survive?'  
  
The scouts that the Lord Elrond had sent to find her had come back empty handed, saying that she either disappeared or she was dead. And now...  
  
When she just appeared in the counsel it had startled and shocked both him and Frodo beyond words. Like someone back from the dead.  
  
Aragorn chuckled.  
  
Once he thought about it, it was quite funny.  
  
And the Lord Elrond... He had seemed...shaken in a way. Before he had stood up and was standing in front of the woman, he treated her like any normal person. But when her eyes glazed over and she seemed to be looking at another world and after which she when she said the names "Élestor" and "Lenaro" the Lord had treated her differently, ordering quickly for her to be brought to a room and a healer to check her.   
  
The names meant nothing to Aragorn and, he supposed, they meant nothing to the Lord. It was most likely her voice or her face that had brought forth something. A memory perhaps.   
  
And now, here he sat. Wondering about this strange girl. Had she once said she was from a different world?   
  
'Yes...I believe she did.'  
  
"Mani are lle doing here?"  
  
Aragorn looked up at Estela. She was sitting up in the bed, staring at him blankly. Was she...speaking Sindarin?   
"Lle will get e' a lot en' rashwe manka Myrian finds n'e tanya lle are il reading tanya parma re gave lle," she said, wagging a finger at him.  
"Excuse me?"   
"Do il act dim yassen amin, Élestor. Lle know. Lle parma. Aiya, mani was ta called?" she sighed. "Aiya, Amin suppose ta does il really matter, ten' lle are il reading ta."   
"Milady, I do not know what book you are talking about. How do you know Elvish?"  
  
Her blank look was replaced by puzzlement and, closing her eyes, she rubbed her head as if it hurt.   
"Oh, I'm sorry, Aragorn. I don't know what's wrong with me. First I have these strange visions, then I have another one in the middle of talking to Elrond, and then, to top it all off, I faint in front of all of them."  
"You are having visions?"   
"Please, I don't really want to talk about it."  
"Yes. How, may I ask, did you survive?"  
"Alassé."  
"Alassé?"  
"My---no, Halendir and Falenwé's horse. I found him and he brought me to Rivendell. And you know what? I think that horse understands me."  
"Yes, Elven horses respond to Sindarin. They may not speak it, but they understand it. Who are Halendir and Falenwé?"  
"Aragorn, do you know what a headache is?"  
"Yes."  
"Well I have a *really* large one."  
"I am sorry, milady. I will bother you no more. Though I expect a thorough tale after you are feeling better. Oh, and the Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you."  
  
Estela's headache left her immediately. "He what?"  
"He wishes to speak to you," repeated Aragorn.   
"When?"   
"I suppose as soon as you are well."  
"But I can see him any time?"  
"I...suppose."  
"Like, right now?"  
"I am not sure..."  
"How about later?"  
"I think that is alright."  
"Great. Thanks, Aragorn."  
"You are welcome, milady."  
"You can call me Estela. In fact, *please* call me Estela."  
"As you wish, Estela."  
  
Aragorn left, closing the door after Estela asked him to.  
  
Estela stood up. Instantly, the pain in her head flared, making her quickly sit back down. Her arms and legs hurt. Not to mention the nauseating feeling she felt in her stomach whenever she moved.  
'I guess walking to the Lord's chambers are out of the question, huh?' she said to herself.  
Sighing, she sat back down on the bed and laid her head down on the soft pillows.  
  
Closing her eyes was out of the question. Every time she did so little snippets of past visions flashed in her mind. And sleeping was not going to happen either. She, unlike most humans, didn't need much sleep. A few hours was okay, but otherwise she was fine.  
  
So all she could do was to lay there and think of the past events.   
  
Adrian...the poor girl. She was either still back on good ol' planet Earth or...she was running madly away from the evil creatures in Middle-Earth.  
  
She had only seen Frodo, Sam, and Aragorn at the counsel earlier that day. Could Merry and Pippin have been less fortunate than them, or where they just not invited to the meeting?  
  
And the Elves she saw in her visions...who were they and what did they have to do with her? And the Lord Elrond? What about him? He had said something before she passed out... 'It is her' perhaps?  
  
She groaned and turned on her side.   
  
Yes, she noted grimly, it was going to be a *long* time before she saw Elrond.  
  
  
  
I am *really* tired. You don't know what I do for you wonderful readers. It is...one in the morning in Missouri. Yep. Hey, I can *read* stories at this time, but, man! It is hard to *write* them.   
  
This chapter is really stupid and it's probably because of the wonderful time in which it was written...   
  
I most likely would have had this up earlier, but my family and I went to the Pasta House for lunch. Then we went to Wal-Mart (I bought the Lord of the Rings soundtrack : )) then we went to...blah blah blah...You probably aren't interested in my pathetic attempts for decent excuses.   
  
Sorry for such a lame and short chapter. Hopefully things will get better as I go along.  
  
Oh, and I have one more thing to say: YOU STUPID KEYBOARD! I keep miss-typing words. AHH! I did it again!  
  
...Yeah...it's time for bed.  
  
Oh, and yet another thing: How old do you think I am? You are probably wondering why in the world I'm asking such a dumb question, but from now on I'm going to add a stupid line from movies and things or a really stupid question from now on in the Author's Note.   
  
So please, I beg you...just answer the question...or...okay! I'm going to stop writing now. Good-night to you all, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	14. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve  
  
Estela had lived in the House of Elrond for over a week now. She had gotten a chance to talk to Elrond a few days after the counsel. He explained most things. In his own odd way, Estela added thoughtfully.   
  
Apparently, she happened to be a descendant of someone from Middle-Earth. An Elf named Andorian. The first time Elrond had told her Estela hadn't responded the way he had expected...  
**Estela was sitting in a large wooden chair in the immeasurable, book-filled room known as the library. Only it most likely held more books than all the libraries and bookstores in Maine.   
  
"Milady," said an Elf that reminded Estela of a stiff butler, "Would you like a glass of water?"   
"That would be lovely, thank you," answered Estela, gratefully taking the half-filled glass from his hands.  
'Or perhaps it is half-empty?' mused Estela with a small smile. She took a drink, moistening her suddenly dry throat.   
  
The Elf nodded then turned and left.   
  
"Estela."  
  
Estela nearly jumped out of her skin. The water in her glass sloshed against the sides as she tried to turn and look at the owner of the voice.  
  
After seeing a really great close-up of a gold diamond-like thing woven into grey material, she strained her neck to look up. Elrond was towering over her and looking down.   
  
'Man, he's tall...'   
  
"That is your name, is it not?" he asked.  
Estela nodded, trying not to make an audible gulp.  
  
Elrond smiled and stepped around her. He walked a few feet then turned and faced her. "Good. Now, do you have any idea why you are here?"  
Estela shook her head 'no'.  
"Do you know how you got here?"  
"I have...an idea how I got here. It was a stone thing. A gate maybe."  
Elrond nodded. "Yes. Andorian and Marie used that same gate to get to Marie's world," he said softly, as if to himself.  
  
"Who?"  
"Andorian and Marie."  
"Aragorn told me about them. He said that they were your...friends, was it? He said it was a fairy tale."  
"Oh, no. It is a real tale, though few think it is."   
"Who are they?"  
"They are your ancestors."**  
Elrond's timing couldn't have been worse. Estela had taken a rather large drink of her water before he had said that and, well...let's just say that Elrond got a shower.  
  
Estela winced at the embarrassing memory and looked at the marble stone bench she was sitting on. It was positioned in a secluded place where most Elves went to practice their archery. Thus another memory came back to her.  
**Estela sat down on a marble stone bench in one of the gardens, and looked down at the ground thoughtfully. Elrond had just told her about her "ancestors", if that was what they really were.  
  
A few Elves passed her in the hall, laughing and talking with each other. Such merry, nice folk...then why did she have the sudden urge to tell them to shut-up?  
  
"I guess finding out that you could possibly be related to someone from a different world makes you kind of irritable," she sighed, glaring at a small hold in the ground near a few flowers. 'What is it with these people? Do they *want* you to break your neck?'   
  
"Excuse me, milady," said a voice behind her, "but do I know you?"  
Estela sighed, stood up and turned around, about ready to bite the head off of whoever it was.  
"Because I am sure of it...though, I might be wrong."   
  
It was that messenger Elf from the counsel. What was his name? Leonardo? Leotardo? Leafolas Greenego?   
  
"Ah, that is right. You are that girl, Estela. The one who interrupted the counsel."  
"Right," replied Estela curtly. "And you're...Leggyless Greentea?"  
"Legolas Greenleaf," he corrected.  
"Right, whatever. Legolas Greenleaf from Minkwood."  
"Mirkwood," he corrected again.  
Okay, now he was just being a pain.   
"Right," said Estela through clenched teeth. "Pardon me. Legolas Greenleaf from *Mirk*wood. And your father it Tandrool?"  
Legolas frowned. "No..."he said with annoyance. "My father's name is Thranduil."  
"AH! Whatever! Shut-up! Okay? Can your small Elf brain stay active long enough for you to follow that simple direction?"  
  
Legolas stood silently, stunned, and stared at her. "I...am terribly sorry, milady. I did not meant to upset you."  
  
"Oh, *sure* you didn't! Stupid Elf."  
  
"Do you speak elvish?" he said. "Because though you look like an Elf, you hardly act like one."  
"No..."  
"Good. Lle are---no. Never mind."  
  
"What? Did your brain shut down like I said it would? You know, that's not healthy."  
  
Legolas' mouth was set in a thin line and he glared. "No, milady. I suppose it is not." With that, he turned on his heel and left.**  
Estela admitted now that it was had been very rude of her to insult the Elf. Feeling horrible the next day, she went to apologize.  
  
**Estela saw Legolas and a few other Elves sitting down next to a stream, talking. She approached them cautiously until she was standing a few feet behind Legolas.   
  
She cleared her throat loudly.   
  
Legolas looked behind him and frowned. Something shone in his eyes, but it passed quickly, replaced by a mischievous smile on his face. "Ah, look, Ornibus, it is a Dwarf. Should we ask him to join us?"  
One of the Elves turned his head. "Legolas...that is a woman," he said slowly. "Not a Dwarf."  
  
Legolas squinted and cocked his head to the side. "Oh, I see now!" he cried with a smile. "She was just so repulsive that I merely assumed that it was a Dwarf."  
  
Blushing furiously, Estela took a step backwards, almost tripped, then ran the other way.**  
And then there was that other time...  
  
  
**Estela smiled wickedly as Legolas walked down the hall. She hid her face behind a book as he drew near, peeking over the top.  
  
He looked to his left at another Elf who was chatting with a few others, and away from her.   
  
Estela snickered and stuck her leg out into the middle of the hallway, smiling with glee when Legolas didn't notice. His foot caught on her leg and he was sent flying toward the ground.  
  
Taking just enough time to savor the sweetness of revenge, Estela quickly darted into a room so that it appeared to the other Elves that Legolas clumsily tripped himself.  
  
Oh, he knew it was her that had done it, though, because he sent a look later that day that would have scared little children if they had been unfortunate enough to see it.**  
"Stupid Elf," sighed Estela. "Well...I suppose he's not that bad...nah. He's a dork."   
Gimli, a Dwarf, was far more easier to get along with.  
**"I am Gimli son of Gloin," said the short, stout, red-haired Dwarf. "And who might you be, milady?"  
"Estela Autumn."  
"A beautiful name, indeed."  
"Thank you. May I ask a question?"  
"Please do."  
"Would you mind telling me of the Mines of Moria? I heard of them at the---around, but I would like to hear it from a Dwarf, if you don't mind."**  
Gimli had been profoundly pleased with this and told her all that he knew--which happened to be a *lot*--about the Mines.  
  
They had proved extremely interesting and the two had become good friends after that. Estela guessed that the fact that she had told him that she wasn't an Elf helped a lot, too, considering that Gimli seemed to dislike the Elves...  
  
She had met Merry and Pippin again a few days ago. Well, Estela met them *after* they had both pounced on her and squeezed her into a suffocating bear hug.  
They had chatted with each other for a while after that before the hobbits trotted off toward the kitchen, saying something about "not having eaten in days".  
  
She hadn't met Boromir yet; deciding against it when she was out one day, riding Alassé. The horse's challenged mind took that time, when Boromir was strolling around in a particularly large garden some forty feet in front of them, to say "Hey, why not run someone over today? That highly important looking man over there is just the perfect victim!"  
  
So, as the man stepped onto a small bridge that arched over a creek, Alassé had bolted, heedless of Estela's cries to stop.  
  
Boromir saw them coming but had no other way escape other then to jump off the low bridge. So...he did, just before Alassé coming speeding over the bridge.   
  
And Legolas, who just *happened* to be standing there, was almost gasping for breath from laughing so hard.   
  
He had walked over, still laughing, and patted her on the knee. "Putta!" he choked. "Putta!" He walked away, most likely going to tell the evil Elves in his clan of her mistake.   
So...Estela had decided to stay away from Boromir. One, because he had called her a "mad, homicidal, moronic female" after he had climbed, drenched, out of the creek, and two, because, well, who wants to talk to a man that you nearly turned into road kill?   
Later, Estela and Aragorn had gotten around to having a long talk about her world, Frodo (with Sam sitting protectively near him) listening intently to her stories. Aragorn had held a particular interest in racecars, electricity, and Presidents. Frodo found the unlimited source of information machine, AKA a computer with an internet connection, quite fascinating, and Sam held a certain appeal to some plants and a few of the animals that she had described. One in particular was the elephant.   
  
"An oliphaunt," he had breathed when she told him about the monstrous grey beast.  
  
She then learned, after Aragorn had left to "tend to some business", that Frodo had been stabbed by one of the Riders, or Nazgûl, or Ringwraiths, as they were called.   
  
Once again guilt had hit her like a tidal wave. She could have done something to prevent it if she had stayed. Maybe a little extra help could have helped...couldn't it have?   
  
Frodo, though she had not told him, knew what she had thought, and assured her that it would have happened either way. He had insisted that it had been his fault. Though he didn't explain why.  
Soon after that Estela had met Gandalf. He looked older, like a grandfather almost, yet he acted and talked like he was younger. Though that it didn't seem surprising, considering Aragorn was--what? Two hundred years old? And he got around fine for his age...  
  
Gandalf was very wise and entertained Estela greatly with stories about Middle-Earth in exchange for tales of her world.  
  
They spent close to four hours talking before Gandalf said that he must leave because he had to speak with the Lord Elrond.  
  
Ah, Elrond. She had only seen the Lord thrice and had only talked to him once. And that talk had been very...enlightening, yet not at all pleasant.  
  
Hadn't he ask to talk to her today? Or was that Aragorn?  
  
Sighing, Estela stood up.   
"To go to the freaky Lord who says to I'm part Middle-Earthian or whatever, or go to dino-man...?" Estela let out a growl of frustration. "Was it Aragorn...or Lord Elrond? Dangit..."  
  
"Lord Elrond. I suppose it is Lord Elrond, considering that Master Aragorn is...distracted at the moment. Lady Arwen and him are strolling the gardens."  
  
Estela knew without turning that it was that evil Elf. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked, closing her eyes.   
"Since you sat down."  
"I ought to hurt you right now, Leggyless Greentea," she muttered, turning around.   
  
Legolas was casually leaning up against a wall, a small smile on his face that soon disappeared when she said that. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it, irritated. "Yes, Lady Autumn," he growled, "I suppose you should. But why on earth would someone as high as you want to do that to someone as low as I?"  
"Oh, shut-up, elf-fiend," sighed Estela. "You are really starting to annoy me."  
Legolas frowned. "Is insulting people a pastime on your world?"  
"Is being a total pain one on yours?"  
  
Legolas stared at her for a moment. "As I said before: Lord Elrond. He is most likely the one you are meeting with."  
  
Estela nodded and started walking down a random hall. However, after walking for a few minutes, she ended up back where she had started, Legolas still leaning against the wall. "Do you need a guid?" he asked with obvious pleasure.   
"No," Estela muttered, taking a different rout. After doing so five or six times (because she hadn't really listened to the previous Elves that had told her how to get from here to there in the House) and finally getting an Elf to help her she found Elrond's study.  
  
And who else but the bane of her existence would be sitting there as she walked toward it. Legolas chuckled to himself as she neared the study, blushing.  
  
"You do know that you would have been here faster if you had just let me help you."   
"Yeah? And you might have not bruised your precious girly face if you hadn't called me a repulsive Dwarf."  
  
Legolas was silent after that and mercifully allowed her to knock on the doors without a snippy comment.  
  
Elrond opened a door and smiled. "Ah, I thought you would wait another two-thousand years," he sighed, shaking his head. "Please, come in."  
  
She started to step through the doors and Legolas spoke. "Contain your water this time," Legolas stage whispered, making her blush and Elrond frown.  
  
Legolas sauntered off before she could respond. "Stupid Elf," she muttered.   
  
  
  
Am I evil? On second thought, don't answer that. You would have had this yesterday but I had an internet connection problem. Sorry.  
  
Anywho, Meethrill, I was already going to give Boromir a spank, though not just to be mean. His character is *so* cool! I love him! No, not as in "Omigod, he is, like, so totally hot!" The whole Alassé thing just creates some wonderful jests for the future. And I was already going to make Gimli and Estela friends...tee hee...   
  
  
Whoa. I did *not* expect my review record for one chapter to be broken last week. Thanks, guys. I'm still not sure whether or not this is going to be a romance. (Though if there is going to be any I promise that none will really show until...maybe at the end of TTT or somewhere in the middle of RotK.) Please tell me what you think. Both of this chapter and the idea of a romance.   
  
Oh, and your question...let's see... What movie did these lines come from?   
  
"But I thought you said spontaneous was romantic!"   
"A burp is spontaneous. A burp is not romantic."  
  
Hint: It's a movie with an Italian lawyer.  
  
And the answer for last weeks question is...I can't tell you...a law in the book of, um, The Really Big Book of Made Up Laws prohibits me from telling you...sorry.  
  
A line from FotR, chapter two The Shadow of the Past: 'Me, sir!' cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk. 'Me go and see the Elves and all! Hooray!' he shouted, then burst into tears.  
  
  
Hee hee...I would really like some more reviews! Greedy, greedy, greedy...hee hee. Thanks, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


	15. Author's Note

Oh...you are *not* going to like me...  
  
I have decided, after looking at past chapters, to put this story on hold for a while. I'm going to go back and add/take out a few things to improve it. I'm not sure how long this will take, but I hope it isn't long.   
  
I have also decided that the 'every weekend' chapter might be the cause of a few mistakes and rushed work so I'm going to take my time and write chapters the way they should be written.  
  
And thanks to all of you that took the time to review, Lúthien Arnatuilë. 


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